


A Dish Best Served Cold

by Peanutbuttertoast



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:21:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 60,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22536964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peanutbuttertoast/pseuds/Peanutbuttertoast
Summary: Upon her return to Hogwarts for her Eighth Year, Hermione finds herself unwillingly partnered with Draco Malfoy as Co-Heads.  Their last night at school and a fateful one-night stand leaves long-lasting repercussions neither one could fathom, but the Ministry’s new Marriage Law sets the stage for Hermione’s revenge.  Will she be successful, or will she succumb to her own plot?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 292
Kudos: 710





	1. Bad News

**Author's Note:**

> All characters belong solely to JK Rowling

The war had been over for well over a year now and most of the Wizarding World had tried to move on. Hermione, Harry and Ron were heralded as heroes of the Wizarding World, and they were followed wherever they went. Harry and Ginny had managed to make their relationship work, despite the constant barrage of attention, but Ron and Hermione couldn’t seem to find common ground. 

Hermione’s decision to return to Hogwarts hadn’t been popular with Ron. After the final battle, the dead had been buried and then the accolades had come. Order of Merlin First class awards for her, Harry and Ron. Harry and Ron had decided to go directly into Auror training and she had decided to go back to school to take her exams. After she and Ron had ended their relationship, she had gone to Australia and returned her parent’s memories and after their initial anger, and lengthy explanations and pleas for forgiveness—Richard and Helen Granger had forgiven their daughter. 

They’d remained in Australia for a bit, until they could get their affairs in order and move back to Britain.

When Hermione had finally returned home about two weeks before school was to start—there had been a subdued victory celebration where the Golden Trio had been honored as heroes of the war and (along with her Order of Merlin), a generous monetary reward had been given to all three of them. She had taken her reward and converted it into Muggle currency, before depositing it into her bank account in London, where her grandparents had set up her trust fund. 

She was quite well off now. 

Nothing overly substantial, but enough to live comfortably on should she choose to do so.

Ron had moved on fairly quickly after their breakup and started dating Susan Bones before she’d finished her NEWTS. Hermione on the other hand, was more interested in finishing school at the top of the class and possibly getting a mastery in Potions or Arithmancy...or both.

However, once her NEWTS had been completed, a missive had come out weeks later from the Ministry of Magic. Apparently, the recent deaths from the war were more massive than the Ministry had initially thought. The Magical population was down 40%, but what was worse, was that those between the ages of 17-30 had suffered the greatest casualties...nearly 60% decimation, according to the Department of the Minister in conjunction with the Department of Mysteries and the Department of International Magical Cooperation. 

The increased casualties weren’t just allocated to Britain, although it did seem to be hit the hardest.

So, in light of this information, the Ministry of Magic and the Wizengamot passed the Marriage Law of 1999. The parameters were fairly simple—matches would be based on magical compatibility and those with the highest rankings would be paired accordingly. The goal was to produce the most magically powerful offspring. The Department of Mysteries would come up with the necessary testing to be done to determine magical compatibility, and anyone refusing to comply with the edict would be stripped of all wand privileges and obliviated—then face banishment in the Muggle World.

The uproar had been fierce, as witches and wizards both Pureblood and not, had come out in opposition to the new law. All betrothals of Death Eater Pureblood families were vacated due to the war, and those Pureblood families that had been hoping to circumvent the new law, found themselves without a pot to piss in.

The testing procedures looked closely at Magical capability, strength of Magic and general aptitude. Questionnaires were sent to all witches and wizards between the ages of 17-30 in late July of 1999, and rumor had it that Pureblood’s would be matched with a Half Blood or Muggleborn. When the pairings came out a week before Hermione’s 20th birthday, she had been sitting down to dinner with her parents when her results were owled directly from the Minister’s office himself.

When she opened the letter, her face turned to ash and she felt the air constrict within her lungs...

...this had to be some kind of joke....right? 

There was no possible way she could be paired with... _him_?!?

_**Dear Hermione,** _

_**I wish I had better news. I wanted to send you the results myself and as you can see, your match is Draco Malfoy. The compatibility was rather astonishing, nearly 90%...the highest of any of the designated matches.** _

_**Mr. Malfoy will receive his paperwork on the morrow, but I’ve sent an owl this evening to his Father. I wanted you to know that the mandated law prevents any witch or wizard to be harmed by their spouse of that of the spouse’s family. I also know that due to what you experienced in the war, that the likelihood of you wishing to live at Malfoy Manor would be in the negative.** _

_**I have taken it upon myself to contact Lucius Malfoy directly, to help him understand that any retaliation on his part would be a direct violation of his probation and a one-way ticket back to Azkaban. I wish there was more that I could do for you. Please let me know if you need anything.** _

_**Kingsley Shacklebolt  
Minister of Magic** _

She held her head in her hands, not believing that this was actually happening to her. She had taken an internship with Professor Vector this past July, after she’d taken her NEWTS results, to get her Mastery in Arithmancy—but the marriage law made it clear that couples were to have two children within five years of marriage and that there would be no divorce nor infidelity due to the bonds that would be administered as part of the marriage ceremony. 

The thought of being intimate _again_ with Draco Malfoy, after everything that had happened between them, made her cringe.

Sitting in her room later that night, she was trying to think of how she was going to handle the situation, when an owl started tapping on her window. Moving over and opening it, she saw a beautiful grey Eagle owl perched on her balcony grate holding a letter. Reaching for it and offering the bird a treat, which it declined, she watched the owl fly away before she looked closer at the letter in her hand.

Turning it over, her hand started to visibly shake when she noticed the Malfoy crest on the seal. Staring at the letter with disgust, she sat down on her bed and pondered if she really wanted to read it or not.

Sighing in resignation, she bit the bullet and opened the letter, her eyes widening at first, then narrowing in anger as she read through the missive.

_Granger,_

_As I’m sure you’re aware, due to this ridiculous Ministry Marriage Law, it would seem as if we’ve been assigned to each other. I’m sure you’re no more happy about this unfortunate turn of events than I am. Apparently, the Minister himself felt the need to contact my Father directly and inform him of the happy news. Needless to say, my Father and Mother were most displeased._

_I hope I don’t seek to offend you by stating that this union between us is less than ideal. The circumstances of our upbringings alone make it highly likely that we will not be happy long term and as such I hope you don’t have any unrealistic expectations going forward. The Minister indicated your likely refusal to live in Malfoy Manor, and while I understand your reluctance, I’m afraid the terms of my probation make living elsewhere not possible for the foreseeable future. So unless we plan on living separate lives...except for the purpose of forced procreation...I’m afraid you will have to make due with Malfoy Manor as a place of residence._

_I look forward to your response._

_D.M._

She stared at the letter in abject horror, reading it through a second time before she set it on fire. 

Of all the unmitigated nerve!

**Fucking ferret!**

Placing her head into her hands, she felt tears falling down her face. 

How in the world would she ever be able to tolerate Malfoy and his bigoted parents after everything that had happened?

Going into her bathroom, she decided to take a long, hot shower...and as she sat down on the tiled floor of the shower, a devious plan started to develop in her mind. Her tears turned into an evil smile as she realized that she could turn this situation to her advantage and hopefully, if she played her cards right, she’d have Malfoy regretting he ever sent that blasted, hateful letter!

This was a _nightmare_!

As she leaned up against the wall of her shower, she couldn’t help thinking back to the moment a week ago, that she had been staring at the small white plastic pregnancy stick and her heart had plummeted when she’d read the indicator window...two blue lines, and tears had formed in the corners of both eyes, as she had continued to stare in abject horror at the piece of plastic.

Her whole entire world had imploded in on itself because of a fucking little white stick!

And now the marriage law!

She was in denial, as to how it happened and just wasn’t quite ready to admit it to herself just yet.

She still wasn’t either, despite the blasted marriage law.

Thinking back when the war had ended and she had returned to Hogwarts to finish her missed seventh year—she had actually looked forward to returning to the safety of Hogwarts, where the press couldn’t find her so she could maybe get some peace and quiet for a while.

When she’d gotten on the Hogwarts Express September First of 1998, the surprise that awaited her had left her reeling. Headmistress McGonagall had pleaded with Hermione to take the Head Girl position, but what she’d failed to mention was whom her counterpart was and that gift had been waiting for her in the Head’s compartment on the train when she’d walked in.

He’d looked different, but the same. Same white blonde hair, same expensive clothes, same grey eyes—but those same eyes were now even more closed off and cold and for Hermione—it felt like a slap in the face after everything she’d been through to see the bane of her existence—the one wizard in all the world who hated her, who had watched her being tortured—sitting in the compartment across from her.

She’d refused to engage him, refused to speak to him because she didn’t owe Draco Malfoy the time of day and she was done trying to be the good girl—so when the train docked in Hogsmeade and the students had all disembarked, Hermione made her way to the castle to speak with the Headmistress.

Professor McGonagall had hoped that perhaps her favorite student might be willing to put aside her feelings for the ‘greater good’—because as it turned out, the only reason Draco Malfoy had been allowed to return was due to his probation and the fact that he was being partnered with her. Hermione had been floored when McGonagall had told her that truth.

The Wizengamot had made his probation contingent upon her?

“And what if I refuse to work with him Professor? What if I can’t do it?” Hermione asked harshly.

Professor McGonagall sighed sadly. “Then Mr. Malfoy will be removed from Hogwarts and placed in Azkaban for the next two years.”

Hermione groaned in anger. How could they do this to her? Didn’t they know how much she and Malfoy hated each other?

“I don’t think I can do it, Professor.” Hermione whispered in pain. “Not after what happened in his home. He watched me being tortured by his aunt!”

Minerva sat there and stared at her favorite student with sympathy.

“I do understand Miss Granger, how you must be feeling, but my hands are tied. Why don’t you give it a few days and try and see if you can’t make this work. If you can’t, I will let the Minister know.”

Hermione’s face scrunched up in disgust, but she reluctantly nodded anyway.

“Fine—I’ll give it one week, but if he so much as calls me a ‘mudblood’ I’m not going to be held responsible for him getting thrown out of here.”

Minerva nodded her head in understanding. “I don’t expect you to be happy about this Hermione, but I do ask you to try for your own sake. Mr. Malfoy has suffered tremendously too. I’m not at liberty to discuss certain things, but the Wizengamot felt that perhaps due to his young age that Mr. Malfoy deserved a second chance.”

Hermione shook her head in disgust. “I don’t care what the Wizengamot thought! The only reason Draco Malfoy is getting this chance is either because he bought, bribed or blackmailed his way out of Azkaban! If it was anyone else I might have been inclined to offer my forgiveness—but not him, never him!”

“I can’t tell you how to feel Hermione. I won’t do that to you, but I do expect you to uphold the standards of the position you’ve accepted and remember that you’re an example to the other students. Mr. Malfoy doesn’t have many allies or friends left here at Hogwarts and as such, his life would likely be in danger within Slytherin House. His wand privileges are restricted, of course...so he’s not able to defend himself should he be attacked. I don’t understand why the Wizengamot would place such a sentence knowing that other students might retaliate. I’ve put the ghosts and Hogwarts elves on notice and Mr. Malfoy’s personal elf...well, I’ve allowed her to come to Hogwarts as a guardian of sorts. Unfortunately I’m not ignorant of how cruel some people can be.”

Hermione sat back in her chair shocked silent. Was this actually possible? Would the Wizengamot really be this cruel that they’d allow Draco Malfoy to come to Hogwarts with no way to defend himself. Hermione could abide many things, but she wasn’t deliberately cruel or heartless, even if she detested Malfoy she didn’t wish him harmed.

At least not permanently.

“I will try my best Headmistress, but I’m not convinced that Malfoy will want to work with me anymore than I want to work with him. But I will try.”

“That’s all I can ask.”

Thinking back to that fateful day made Hermione feel even worse and she wished with all her heart that she’d refused Minerva’s request for unity and just had Malfoy sent back to Azkaban! If she had done so, perhaps she wouldn’t be in this situation!

As water continued to fall over her body, Hermione pondered on how her life had gotten so complicated. She’d taken Minerva’s words to heart eventually and had given Malfoy a chance. She’d gone against every internal warning inside herself that screamed at her that he was still the same bigoted prick he’d always been.

She’d ignored it and had slowly chipped away at Malfoy’s hard shell, or so she’d thought.

It hadn’t been until that last night at Hogwarts, before they were set to graduate the next day that she’d gotten drunk...so much so, that she hadn’t really known what she was doing...well, more like forgotten to cast the damn contraceptive charm, but he hadn’t remembered either. She’d dropped her guard for a split second and allowed her dubious attraction to Malfoy, that had always lived deep inside her psyche, to come out and play for one night.

He’d been drinking too and she’d thought that their desire had been mutual. It sure seemed that way at the time, as they’d fallen into her bed and torn each other clothes off in their haste to consummate their carnal desires, but in the morning when she’d awoken...he was gone with not so much as a by your leave.

She hadn’t seen him in the Great Hall nor on the Hogwarts Express and the shame that had come, choked her in that moment, like a living breathing collar of regret.

Now here she was nearly three months later—thinking back on the past year, and now she was supposed to marry the ferret because of a stupid marriage law? _Fuck that!_ She’d just started her internship with Septima and her parents had just moved back home a few months ago.

Merlin, she hadn’t even told them she was pregnant yet, but knowing her parents as she did...they would support her decision...especially when she explained about this blasted marriage law.

Smirking again, Hermione had to talk to Kingsley as soon as possible. Perhaps if she could get a copy of the law, she could see for herself if her idea had any merit.

She could only hope so because if this law was solely about procreation, then there was a very real chance she wouldn’t have to marry the ferret after all.

And he’d regret ever dismissing her like he’d done not once...but _twice_.


	2. Phase One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phase One of Hermione’s plan goes off without a hitch...and Draco doesn’t know what to do about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone...new chapter! Thank you for the outpouring of support for this little trope fic!

Draco had been waiting for Granger’s response for over two weeks, and there hadn’t been so much as a single solitary word from her in all that time—not that he was too surprised...

Their final year together at Hogwarts had started out uncomfortably enough. Granger went out of her way to ignore him except for the times they had to discuss prefect patrols and did their rounds together. It hadn’t been until Halloween that he’d offered up his apology to her, for everything that had happened both at school and in his ancestral home. By Christmas they had formed a tentative truce and by Easter, Draco had realized that he actually enjoyed Granger’s company—her wit and intelligence were second to none.

And then that last night at Hogwarts had happened.

He’d gotten drunk and acted on his ill-fated attraction to the Gryffindor Golden Girl.

When he’d awoken in Granger’s bed the next morning, he’d taken one look at the bushy haired witch and bailed. Draco was no fool. He knew that his parents would’ve never approved of him bedding the Muggleborn and from what he could remember from the night before...he’d known he hadn’t been the first wizard she’d been with. His gut had clenched at that thought...wondering if it had been Weasley or Potter.

But it didn’t matter.

He’d left and then barely three months later he was now forced to marry the witch.

His parents had been _livid_.

He’d just been in shock at first and then several emotions at once had flittered through his consciousness.

There had been despair, shock, wonder, anger, shock again...but the overriding emotion had been shame. Of all the wizard’s that Granger could’ve been paired with—the fact that it was him made him feel ashamed.

He’d left that morning without so much as a word, and had regretted it almost immediately, but by then it had been too late.

But now?

He knew that somehow, Hermione Granger would make him pay for that choice.

Walking down to the dining room, he wasn’t surprised to see his parents sitting at the table waiting for his arrival. He nodded to both of them and sat down, and their food was immediately served by the House elves. Draco picked at his eggs for a moment until the family owl swooped down with that morning’s Prophet.

His father reached for the paper and unfolded it...his eyes widening comically as he continued to read the article. When he was done, Lucius handed the paper to his son and watched closely for Draco’s reaction.

Taking the Prophet, Draco hissed when he saw what was on the front page.

_**War Heroine faces the Wizengamot** _

_**By Rita Skeeter** _

__

_**In a interesting turn of events, our very own War Heroine, Hermione Granger was seen yesterday in front of the Wizengamot seeking clarification of the parameters of the new Marriage Law. It would seem that Miss Granger took to task the nature of the law, and sought out clarification as to certain language that is entailed within its purview.** _

_**Miss Granger successfully argued that the Law is in truth, not a Marriage Law but a Procreation Law. That the terms of the law only seek to replenish the depleted numbers to our Wizarding society and any witches who are currently pregnant at the time the law was implemented, should not be required to suffer further indignation by having to procreate more than the required two births mandated by the Wizengamot. After deliberation, it was deemed that Miss Granger’s challenge was deemed applicable and the law would place undue burden on any witch currently pregnant. The War Heroine went on to demand that under such circumstances, a witch would not be mandated to marry her chosen match if she found herself pregnant and the father was unwilling or unfit to take responsibility.** _

_**The Wizengamot ruled that only under the proviso that the two birth minimum was guaranteed, that a witch could seek an injunction from her assigned Ministry spouse.** _

_**Once the motion was passed, I was able to speak with the War Heroine and she praised the Wizengamot and the Minister for their fair-mindedness. When I inquired as to her ministry match, Miss Granger informed me that an announcement would be coming forthwith.** _

_**Rumors are rampant that the Ministry has paired our War Heroine with former Death Eater, Draco Malfoy. We will keep you appraised as more information comes in.** _

Draco paled as he slammed the paper down on the table, feeling his stomach drop at the implications of what this all meant.

Deep down, he knew what this was about.

Looking up into his parent’s faces, he could see the curiosity, hope and anger raging behind both his Father’s eyes and his Mother’s countenance.

“What is the meaning of that, Draco?”

Draco swallowed nervously, not sure how to answer the question honestly. He only had a suspicion...which wasn’t enough to go on but it was clear his Father had his own thoughts on the article.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Father?”

Lucius hummed, tapping his finger on the table. “ _Why_ would Miss Granger seek to do something of this vein?”

Draco stared back down at the paper, and felt his body tense at the thoughts running through his head. But before he could answer, another owl flew into their parlour and dropped off a letter right in front of him.

He stared down at the missive and picked it up, trying desperately to quell his uneasiness as he immediately recognized the handwriting.

Opening it, his eyes narrowed at first before his anger shot through the roof.

_Malfoy,_

_I’m sure by now you’ve seen this morning’s Prophet. Good news! I’ll be petitioning the Ministry for the dissolution of our mandated coupling come tomorrow. Under the new Ministry guidelines, it would seem that you are free of me. I’m sure your parents will be so relieved!_

_Kingsley informed me that your new partner is also Muggleborn, so not to worry. Graduated from Hogwarts a couple years ago. Hufflepuff, I think? Unfortunately, most of the other eligible matches have already been spoken for but I’m sure you’ll be so relieved that you won’t be stuck with me._

_By now you’ve probably guessed that I’ve found a loophole. I’m pregnant with twins! Their magical signatures are already well developed so there will be no need to force myself on you, your family nor your ancestral home._

_Granger_

Draco glared at the letter, seeing red and feeling like he actually wanted to squeeze the life out of the little swot who had always bested him in every subject and now had managed to find a way not only to get out of their mandated marriage...but with what was likely his children!

Granger was betting that he would never admit to sleeping with her, much less fathering those babies. Well, that witch had another thing coming!

Throwing the letter at his parents, his Father read it first and then his Mother—who’s expression was shocked as she stared at him.

“Miss Granger is _pregnant_?”

“So it would seem.” He grit out, his teeth clenched in fury.

Lucius eyed him like one of his prized peacocks as he looked down at the letter and then back to him.

“The magical signatures are already developed?” He hummed thoughtfully. “Powerful children apparently...although I’m quite surprised, since it’s likely she’s pregnant with Weasley spawn?”

Draco glared at his Father, who’s expression was placid even if his eyes were anything but.

“They’re _not_ Weasley’s.”

“Oh?” Lucius drawled, leaning forward. “And just **whom** is the father of Miss Granger’s children?”

Draco stared his Father down, but the shocked gasp from his Mother was to be expected.

“Draco!” Narcissa’s voice was part angry and part something he’d rather not think upon. Disappointment? “Please tell me that those _aren’t_ your children?”

Draco slammed his hands down on the table.

“And what if they are, Mother?” He snarled. “It’s not going to do me a bit of good because that diabolical little witch will make sure I never see them! And you read that letter! They are going to pair me off with some random Hufflepuff Muggleborn!”

Lucius scoffed and Narcissa tutted, clearly not willing to believe in that possibility.

“I can see if we can try and find a half-blood match, Draco.”

His Father’s voice grated on his last nerve and in a fit of enraged accidental magic...the windows in the room shattered in effigy.

“ _ **No!”**_ His voice was surprisingly controlled, but angrier than either parent had ever heard it. “You both will stay out of this! The Ministry isn’t going to allow themselves to be manipulated again by you, Father. So what will it be? Are you really going to allow your magical grandchildren, who’s signatures are already developed and will in all likelihood, be powerful beyond belief...to be raised bastards because your prejudices are too far ingrained up your own arse?”

“Draco!” His Mother’s voice was shrill, but his Father just smirked at him knowingly.

“I always _knew_ you had a thing for that little chit,” Lucius drawled arrogantly. “It would seem that you have burned that bridge rather spectacularly, Son. I don’t think the witch is going to listen to anything you might have to say, do you?”

Draco stood up abruptly, his chair slamming down on the floor as he stormed out of the dining room—ignoring his Father’s look of superiority and his Mother’s expression of horror.

He desperately needed to figure out how to fix the mess he’d made.


	3. Blackmail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Malfoy have a discussion as Hermione sets the stage for what’s to come...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loving the outpouring of support from all you wonderful readers! Truly the best!

Hermione was whistling a happy tune as she made her way inside her parents home. They were still at work, and she had to return to Hogwarts tomorrow—but for now...she was feeling rather smug.

She’d have given good galleons to see the look on Malfoy’s face when he’d gotten her letter.

Walking into the kitchen, Hermione grabbed a bottled water from the fridge and sat down at the kitchen table—grabbing a banana out of the fruit bowl along with a plate and some cutlery from the cabinet before grabbing a jar of Nutella. She peeled the banana, cut it and then proceeded to slather each piece with a small spoonful of the hazelnut-chocolatey goodness. As she finished up the last bite, there was an insistent tap on the kitchen window. Smirking, she noticed immediately who’s owl it was and she took the proffered slip of parchment before sending the owl on its way with a treat.

Opening the letter, her stomach twisted as she recognized Malfoy’s singular scrawl.

_Granger,_

_I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but I’m not going to sit idly by why you raise my children without me. We need to sit down and discuss this like two rational adults. I will admit, my previous correspondence wasn’t very well done of me. I didn’t expect any of this to happen and before you do something we’ll both regret, I would at least like a chance to explain._

_I told my parents. They know about the children and as much as I have no control over their actions nor their expectations, I do have control over mine._

_Just hear me out. Come to the Manor tonight. I will leave the floo open to my private suite—just call out Draco’s bedroom and it will take you directly to me._

_I give you my solemn magical vow you won’t be harmed. Just please, give me a chance to talk this through with you._

_8pm._

_Malfoy_

Staring at the letter, she couldn’t help but wonder just what Lucius and Narcissa’s reactions had been. If it was anything like her parent’s reactions when she’d told them over a week ago...she could well imagine the news hitting Malfoy’s parents like a lead balloon.

The irony was that this infernal procreation law would’ve seen her married to Malfoy regardless, but now that she was pregnant...(with his children no less), didn’t mean she had to marry him. Come the morrow, when she had to decide whether or not to make the formal request to dissolve the marriage stipulation, the only caveat would be that the Marriage Law and Records Department would likely insist upon knowing the name of the Father. In truth, Malfoy wouldn’t be required to marry anyone...but since paternity couldn’t be determined magically until the children were born, and they wouldn’t show up on the Malfoy Family tree in all likelihood until then (assuming half-blood Malfoy’s would—and the jury was still put on that one), Hermione was reasonably assured that her story of being drunk and not remembering who she had slept with (and had subsequently gotten her pregnant) would have to suffice.

Besides, you couldn’t give a pregnant witch veritaserum.

Another loophole she fully intended to exploit.

Walking upstairs, Hermione jumped into the shower and washed her hair, using her favorite jasmine and vanilla body wash and took her time to look her very best. She’d meet with Malfoy alright...this was all part of her plan after all. Once she was standing in front of her mirror in her newest black cocktail dress that showed off her very slight bump that had just started to barely show this past week...she swept up her curls into a French chignon and grabbed a pair of stiletto’s that she’d purchased on a shopping trip to Harrods with her mum a month ago. Jimmy Choo mesh sling back pumps with a demure two-and-a-half inch heel.

The final touch was under her dress...la perla lingerie and garters. The red lip stick she added as an afterthought, finished the look perfectly.

She smirked in the mirror for a split second...

Hermione felt confident and she knew she held all the cards. Grabbing the paperwork she’d drafted up for this moment and placing it into her beaded bag, she glamoured her scars and adjusted her wand in the thigh holster where she could get to it easily enough should it be necessary.

As she made her way down the stairs, Hermione heard her parents walking through the front door and calling her name.

“Hi, mum, dad.” She smiled at them and by the looks of astonishment on their faces, her parents seemed stunned by her attire.

Then her mother grinned.

“Plans?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.”

Handing her parents the Prophet from that morning, her mother nodded in understanding...secretly pleased that her daughter had managed to turn this horrendous scenario into an advantage.

“I take it you’re going to see that Malfoy boy?”

Hermione sighed and nodded as she gave her mum the letter that Malfoy had written. By the pinched expression on her mum’s face, Hermione could tell her mother wasn’t impressed.

“Are you really going to give that family a chance to hurt you again?”

Hermione sighed. “Mum, trust me. When I’m done with Malfoy and his parents, they won’t know what hit them. I can always walk away and he will be forced to marry someone else. Something tells me he doesn’t want that, but I’ll be damned if I take him or his bigoted parents at their word for anything. If he wants to have his children as part of his life...he’ll have to abide by the contract I’ve written up...as will his parents. If not, I’m perfectly capable of raising these little one’s on my own.”

Hermione cupped her stomach lovingly and smiled softly, before noticing her parent’s identical expressions of concern.

“Does anyone know you’re going over to that house?”

“The Minister knows of my plans.”

Helen nodded and even Richard relaxed a bit.

“He’s a good man.” Her Father mumbled, and Hermione hummed in agreement.

Kingsley had really been a lifesaver throughout these past two weeks.

Checking the time, Hermione saw that it was a couple minutes before eight o’clock. She kissed her parent’s goodbye and headed towards her floo that had been installed when she’d moved back home. It connected to Minerva’s office as well as the Leaky, the Burrow and Grimmauld Place. She grimaced at the thought of how Harry and Ron would take the news when she finally told them.

Whatever that news end up being.

Standing in the floo, she called out clearly—Draco’s bedroom—and felt the pull of the green flames carry her away until she stepped out into a massive suite that was bigger than her parent’s downstairs. Wandlessly cleaning the soot off her body as she stepped into the room proper—she had barely registered her surroundings when a low voice drawled, “Granger.”

She turned her head to the right and saw Malfoy lounging up against the wall, his grey eyes raking over her form before they locked back with her’s. His expression was closed off, but his eyes were blazing as he took in her appearance.

“Malfoy.”

He sauntered over and offered her his hand, which she stared at with an elevated eyebrow and a condescending look.

This caused him to drop his hand reluctantly with a sigh as he gestured over to a black leather couch near a large set of French doors, that led to a balcony of some kind.

Walking regally to the proffered seating, Hermione sat down primly with her ankles crossed and her hands folded gently in her lap as she stared at the young man who had made it his life’s mission to fuck with her life over and over again. Granted, this last time she’d offered herself up to him on a sliver platter and from what she could remember...the sex had been blistering and...

Shaking her head ruefully...Hermione admonished herself silently for thinking about that night.

_They’d fucked...pure and simple._

Nothing much to report otherwise and she had no intentions of a repeat performance beyond the requirements of the Marriage Law.

“I’m here, so talk.”

She said indifferently and watched Malfoy as he bristled for a moment, staring her down but she refused to back up or give an inch.

“Are they _mine_?”

Hermione chuckled deeply. “Nice try. Want to start that again?”

Draco’s expression turned sour as he glared at her.

“You’re not going to admit paternity?”

“I’m here to listen to what you have to say. Once that’s done, we can discuss whether or not it’s in my best interests to go straight to the Ministry tomorrow and be rid of you.”

Draco’s lips thinned as he leant forward and stared her down even harder.

“You really are something else.”

“I am what you’ve made me, Malfoy. I gave you the benefit of the doubt once, against my better judgement and despite how my friends warned me not to. I accepted your false apology and believed you’d changed for the better. What’s that old saying? Fool me once, shame on you...fool me twice? The shame was definitely on me and I won’t be repeating that mistake again.”

Draco ran his hands through his hair and down his face as he sat back and shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Granger. I’m sorry I left that morning without so much as a word.”

Hermione shrugged non-plussed as she stared at her fingernails absently. Her voice, when she spoke—was emotionless and disinterested.

“I don’t really care about your reasons, Malfoy. Water under the bridge and all that. I’m here to listen to what it was that you wanted to tell me. So please, spit it out so I can leave.”

Hermione watched Malfoy’s gaze narrow and he opened his mouth to say something caustic when he noticed her hand reflexively go to her abdomen as if she was protecting their children from him and he sighed in defeat.

“I was betrothed to Astoria Greengrass.” Hermione’s eyes widened as she wasn’t expecting that admission! “That’s why I left. I couldn’t give you a relationship or even a friendship and I should’ve been honest from the get go and I wasn’t, so for that I apologize. I didn’t expect to see you in a different light after everything that had happened and I didn’t think someone like you would ever want someone like me. My parents, for all their failed choices, still hold onto their failed beliefs.”

“And you don’t?” Hermione scoffed. “I read that letter you sent me, Malfoy. You weren’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of me muddying your oh so perfect Pureblood lines.”

“You misunderstood me, Granger,” Malfoy demanded angrily, “in that my words were an aversion on my part. It had more to do with my parents and how they took the news than anything else. I know you would never seek to live here in my home after everything that had happened during the war.” They both cringed at the memories from that ill-fated night. “But I’m stuck here, until next June on house arrest and my parents for the next three years. This situation, you must agree, is less than ideal for two people who intend to marry—living separate lives.”

Hermione thought about what Malfoy was saying, and conceded reluctantly that he made a valid argument.

“All this is moot, Malfoy.”

He scoffed and gritted out, “You’re really going to go to the Ministry and force me to not only marry someone else, but expect me to give up my children! Are you _mad_?”

“Possibly!” she grinned manically. “This whole situation is barmy, utterly mad and beyond ludicrous on so many levels that it’s a wonder I’m even here at all.” Hermione admitted passionately.

Draco chuckled and nodded, and Hermione’s eyes widened at how genuine he sounded.

“Well, Granger? I won’t disagree with you there—but please...there has to be someway that we can come to a mutually beneficial understanding?”

“And if there _isn’t_?” She demanded heatedly. “And what about your parents, Malfoy? I’m sure neither one of them want this for their precious baby boy.”

“I don’t buy that,” Draco leant forward again, his grey eyes calculating. “You wouldn’t be here if that were the case and as for my parents? I suggest you leave them to me.”

“Because that’s worked out so well for you in the past, hasn’t it?”

Hermione didn’t think Malfoy had ever looked quite so angry as he did in this moment, but she simply didn’t care. If he couldn’t hear the truth of his own cowardice, that was hardly her problem.

“You know, I had almost forgotten what a vindictive witch you could be.”

This caused Hermione to stare at him blankly, her expression almost innocent.

_But he knew better._

She was a _hellion_...a lioness wrapped in a dainty package that he wanted to snap in two...or bend her over his couch—just like he’d done on that fateful night.

He could still remember her screams of pleasure and the way she’d moaned his given name as she’d come violently around him.

It was the only time she’d ever said his first name and the thought of it was starting to make other parts of his anatomy sit up and pay attention.

Her evil little smirk didn’t help either.

Clearing his throat, he spent a couple minutes getting his traitorous body under a bit better control before he spoke again.

“What is it going to take for you to allow the marriage agreement to stay in place with the Ministry?”

Draco watched as Granger’s mouth quirked up for the briefest of seconds, her amber eyes flashed before she took out a stack of parchment from her beaded bag and set it down on the table in front of them.

Then she placed a quill on top of it with a satisfied smirk.

“Read over this.” She purred lowly. “Have your parents do the same. I’m sure you’re all familiar with standard contracts and this one is fairly straightforward. There is no room for negotiation however, and if it’s not signed and dated with that quill by three o’clock tomorrow afternoon, I will be going to the Ministry and letting the Minister know he can go forward with your new match post haste.”

Draco glared at her, but she just sat there the picture of restraint and proper decorum.

“And how will you know if I’ve signed it?”

This engendered another wicked smirk to form on the diabolical witch’s mouth.

Oh, he _so wanted_ to wipe that look off her face!

“I have a magical copy that’s linked with that one and that quill is a little remnant left over from the Inquisitorial Squad day’s and Umbridge.” Draco’s eyes widened in surprise, as he stared at it in horror. “You will need to use that quill to sign the contract as will your parents. After all, what’s a few scars amongst family, _right?”_

At that, Draco watched Granger stand up effortlessly and smooth down her fitted dress that clung to her curves like sin.

“Oh, and don’t think to try and magically alter that little parchment or sign it with anything but that quill. You do remember Marietta Edgecombe, right? I’d hate to see the word ‘ _ferret_ ’ scarring your pretty face. I’m sure your parents wouldn’t want their own versions of that particular hex to come back and haunt them either.”

Draco watched silently as Granger turned to go, and without thinking about the consequences, he immediately mirrored her stance, reaching for her arm to prevent her from leaving.

“ _Granger_...” he growled out lowly, his whole body radiating tension and fury. “You _vicious swot_. What are you after?”

Hermione stared up into endless slate that was focused on her with several emotions radiating from their depths.

Anger, hurt, fear and a hint of admiration.

**_Fucking Slytherin._ **

“You’ll have to forgive me if I’m disinclined to accept anything you say to me at face value after everything that’s happened. I don’t trust you and I sure as Godric don’t trust your parents. If this infernal law hadn’t happened, I’d be...” Draco’s eyes widened but Hermione caught herself before she could make any declaration of her children’s paternity. “Never mind.” She bit out and saw Malfoy’s expression darken noticeably.

“I’m sorry, Granger. I don’t know how else to say it.”

“We’re all sorry, Malfoy. But ‘ _sorry_ ’ doesn’t change the facts at hand.” She grated out with ire. “Read the contract. It’s not binding until the entire Malfoy Family signs it with that quill. If you don’t, I’ll have my answer and you’ll have a blushing Hufflepuff bride by the end of the month.”

Without thinking, Draco grabbed the back of Granger’s head and crushed his lips to hers forcefully. He plundered her mouth and felt a surge of satisfaction as she immediately responded with the same passion he felt—until her teeth clamped down on his lower lip and she bit him...

**Hard.**

He pulled back with a small shout and felt the blood from the bite well on his lip as he licked it instinctively—trying to soothe the sting.

“ _Watch_ yourself, Malfoy.” Hermione hissed, trying desperately to ignore her own body’s traitorous response to Malfoy’s onslaught, but his infuriating smirk made her want to punch his smarmy face again.

“Just reminding you, witch.” Draco drawled, with his normal arrogance firmly intact. “We both remember what happened that night and what it was like and deny it all you want...but you’re still attracted to me.”

Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes for effect.

“We fucked each other, Malfoy, pure and simple. There was no love, no like even...it was nothing but sex so don’t delude yourself about that. If you agree to the contract just know that I have no intention of allowing a repeat performance of that night to happen beyond the consummation clause.”

Draco just chuckled as he shook his head at her naïveté.

“ _Granger, Granger, Granger._..” his voice whispered like pure sin, as he grinned smugly at her. “We both know that despite your vehement protests to the contrary...you’ll be back in my bed soon enough. I may be a prat and you might hate me now...but trust me when I tell you, Princess, that I fully intend for our marriage to be real in every way.”

“Dream on, ferret. You might change your mind once you read that contract. Oh, and just in case you or your little family has a crisis of conscience and tries to force my hand through Rita Skeeter, just remember that your reputation and that of your parents is at stake too. What do you think those lovely Pureblood bigots might think if they knew you’d had sex with the Muggleborn best friend of the Chosen One outside this forced marriage law? Or better yet? What might the Greengrass patriarch think if he knew that you’d broken the betrothal contract by having sex with me? I’m fairly certain there was probably some kind of antiquated stipulation in your betrothal agreement to that effect, right?”

Hermione then smirked and turned to leave...ignoring Malfoy’s low chuckles of amusement as she called out for her home and left the arrogant git grinning after her.


	4. Sic fiat semper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione steps up her plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely reviews and kudos!

That night Draco read over the contract with a singular focus born of years as a Malfoy and he had to admit...his little bride to be, was far more clever than he’d ever imagined. There was absolutely no wiggle room in her contract and no room for negotiation at all...she’d been right about that.

The Ministry marriage contract wasn’t nearly as well done as Granger’s.

When he handed it to his Father the next morning before breakfast in his study...Draco watched his Father’s expression closely, but to his Father’s credit...he didn’t give much away except for a lifted eyebrow here and there, and at one point—his lips pursed together in displeasure.

Draco had a pretty good idea what had elicited that response.

He had rolled his eyes when he’d read the part where Granger insisted that all the Manor’s portraits be silenced in her and their potential future children’s presence. There was no way little Miss Gryffindor would have anyone alive or dead speak ill of her future children.

The caveat was just ‘ _that_ ’...the word future and potential. No where in the contract did Granger give a hint that she was now with child...or in this case—children. For all intents and purposes it was a straightforward betrothal contract. Draco had even registered a few of the more obscure Black Family codicil’s and when his mother had taken her turn...her look of surprise at some of the items had Draco biting back a smirk.

Apparently the rumor that Potter was living in the old Black Manor was true after all.

It wasn’t until after breakfast however, that Draco filled his parents in on the other stipulations including the cursed parchment, the hex, the blood quill requirements and the time constraint. His mother had seemed genuinely shocked that a Gryffindor would think to do such a thing, but his Father had just smirked in that infuriating way of his and said nothing.

If Draco hadn’t known better, he’d almost think that his Father looked...impressed.

“So, Miss Granger was here last night and you spoke?” His Father’s voice was disdainful even if his expression was curious. “And just what was her demeanor, Son?”

Draco took a sip of his water as he glared at his Father over the rim of his goblet. As he set it down, he drawled emotionlessly...

“She was fairly adamant in her resolve and didn’t give any indication the children in question are mine. She’s not an idiot Father...she can’t very well claim plausible deniability about paternity to the Ministry if she intends to raise these children by herself. While the Ministry can’t force her to marry me at this point, the fact remains that if it were public knowledge that I’m the Father, I would be free of the requirements of the law as well. However,” Draco put his hand up at his Father, who he could see wanted to speak, “paternity can’t be proven until the children are born, and knowing Granger as I do, she will never admit those children are mine without our family signing this contract. Which means, I’ll be forced to marry the other Muggleborn witch.”

Draco watched his Father tap his finger down on the contract as he mulled over his words. His mother just looked irritated.

“We could leak the information to Rita Skeeter?” Narcissa offered and Lucius turned to his wife and considered her suggestion but Draco just shook his head.

“Granger called me out on that and warned me what the likely outcome of that would be.” His voice was amused as he’d thought about it quite a bit last night and wondered just how the swot had known that little tidbit. “I don’t think that Lord Greengrass would take too kindly if that news became public. Astoria and I were still officially betrothed at that time and he could make things very difficult if he so chose to.”

Narcissa paled and Lucius just nodded reluctantly in agreement, and Draco knew his Father—despite their fall from grace after the war, he would never seek to bring further scandal to the Malfoy name.

Granger had counted on that caveat too.

Draco had to wonder if she was a decent chess player.

“You wish to marry her?”

His Father droned with bored affectation, and Draco just bowed his head once in acquiescence, not needing to vocalize his thoughts on the matter.

He’d already had sex with the witch.

She was pregnant with his children.

“You’re awfully quiet, Mother.” Draco’s gaze turned to his Mother’s and she pursued her lips in displeasure.

“What would you like me to say, my Dragon? Of course I’m am unhappy with this turn of events but perhaps not for the reasons you seem to think.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Frankly, I’m more disappointed that you chose to have relations with Miss Granger at all and then compounding that by not using the proper protective spells, speaks of some very poor decision making on your part.”

Draco bowed his head at the stern rebuke, silently reminding himself that arguing with his Mother was never a good idea.

“Were you hoping for this outcome?” Narcissa queried and Draco’s head shot up in shocked horror.

“ _Mother!”_

“I just needed to ask.” Her voice was cold, but her expression was tinged with exasperation.

“Yes, it wasn’t well done of me but I can’t regret it now.” Draco pleaded softly. “How can I? The Ministry would’ve paired me with a Muggleborn regardless and I think we can all agree on that fact.” Draco looked to both his parents and saw the resignation clearly etched on their faces. “There was no way the Ministry nor the Wizengamot would allow our family to retain any sort of control over this process. If I am to be paired with a Muggleborn witch, can either one of you think of one more intelligent and powerful than Hermione Granger?”

Narcissa turned her head to the side as she stared out the window while Lucius just took a measured sip of his tea.

The silence lasted about five minutes before his Father took the contract and flipped through to the last page...and Draco watched mesmerized as his Father signed the contract—hissing at the blood quill scarring his name on the back of his hand. He then stood up without so much as a word and left the dining room parlour...leaving two shocked individuals staring after him.

Draco shook his head as he murmured, “That was unexpected.”

His Mother huffed, but she too...took the parchment and quill and signed her name below his Father’s. Draco cringed when his Mother flinched as her name too, appeared on her left hand and the parchment simultaneously, but to her credit...she didn’t give any outward sound of the discomfort the quill had wrought—she just handed the contract back to him and set the quill down with a fathomless expression on her face as she excused herself with a soft kiss to the crown of his head.

It was hard to believe that his Father had signed the document with not so much as a single argument, but Draco knew his Father well enough to know that this wasn’t something he could fix in a single day and whatever his issues were...Lucius Malfoy valued family above all else. If Draco was to have children, and be forced into a scenario where he’d have to marry a Ministry approved witch...there was no one better, smarter or more well-connected than Hermione Granger.

Draco was fairly certain his Father was trying to figure out how to work this situation to his advantage.

Grabbing the parchment and quill, Draco wondered for a brief moment why Granger hadn’t insisted he free all the House Elves on the estate. She had made a proviso that they had to be paid and given days off...but she could’ve demanded their freedom...so that was strange.

Some of her other stipulations had been interesting and some had been downright ridiculous but in the end...nothing she’d demanded had been as important to him as having access to his children.

Granger didn’t want to live in the Manor immediately, and had left that part open-ended. She had insisted that the drawing room and the dungeons be either sealed or banished. He had smirked at that caveat, as the drawing room had been razed along with that part of the Manor. The dungeons had been sealed off permanently as well, so there was no concession to make there...Granger would find that out soon enough.

She had put in another proviso that any future children would be taught in Muggle customs and be sent to Muggle primary school. Draco had scoffed at that initially, but then realized that it probably couldn’t hurt to have them learn a thing or two about the rest of the world. 

Perhaps if his children grew up more informed, they’d be less inclined to be bigoted, self-serving git’s like him.

The only codicil that he was having a hard time getting past...was the intimacy clause. 

Separate bedrooms and sex only to consummate the marriage but otherwise Granger had made it glaringly obvious that she wasn’t going to be so easy to win over. But there was no way that Draco Malfoy was going to live like a monk for the rest of his days. The Ministry mandate made it impossible for spouses to cheat on each other by using the _vita fidelium vinculum_...the bond of fidelity. There were other lesser bonds that were often part of a Pureblood marriage ceremony too, but rarely used outside the Aristocracy.

Draco had to wonder once he signed this parchment if he would be able to convince Granger of the wisdom of using such bonds...since she was pregnant with his heirs and it would only strengthen her magic during the pregnancy.

Glancing down at the parchment, he took the quill in hand and signed his name under both his parents signatures, biting his lip as the blood quill etched his name on the back of his hand. He stared down at the wound, his face darkening at the thought that Umbridge had used these on Granger fifth year, but he was also intrigued with just how she’d gotten ahold of one of them for her own personal use.

Once the blood had seeped into the parchment, it flashed for a moment and then there was a small note inscribed on the bottom of the contract—in what was clearly Granger’s handwriting—

_Sic fiat semper—_

The parchment flashed one last time and the signatures of both himself and his parents morphed into what appeared to be permanent ink. Then Draco looked at his hand in shock as the wound on his hand glowed a bright yellow and then the scar was healed instantly.

_How had she done that?_

The shock and awe on his face was clear to see when his parents strolled back into the room a few moments later...their matching expressions of disbelief almost comical.

His Father came over and gently took the contract, staring down at the signature page, his eyes assessing as he ran a finger over their signatures and then he noticed the final addition with an amused smirk.

“She’s quite clever.” He murmured softly.

Draco just nodded dumbly, unsure of what to say to that comment. The truth was that Hermione Granger was probably the most clever person he’d ever known and if it hadn’t been for her Muggleborn heritage, she’d have been sorted into Slytherin for sure.

He couldn’t help but wonder what he might’ve done had she’d been born a Pureblood.

Shaking his head out of those useless thoughts, he watched as his Father set the contract back down on the table and left the parlour with his Mother firmly ensconced at his side.

Some time must’ve passed, but he was unsure how long he’d been sitting there staring at the table when he finally stood up with parchment and quill in hand and headed back to his bedroom—his mind swirling with thoughts and emotions as he wondered what came next.

The answer wasn’t long in the making because precisely at 8pm that evening, his floo flashed and out stepped Granger, looking immaculate in a deep plum wrap dress and heels...her hair pulled back into a bun as she cleaned the soot from her clothes.

“Granger.” He drawled deeply...standing from his couch to greet the infuriating witch.

“Malfoy.” Her voice was even, and her expression was placid giving no outward sign of her victory. “I know we didn’t have an appointment tonight, but I surmised you wouldn’t be adverse to speaking with me and this was something that needed to be done in person.”

Draco nodded and held out his hand towards the couch, offering her a seat which she took gracefully.

“I’m surprised, but I didn’t close the floo on purpose, Granger.”

Hermione chose to ignore the deeper meaning of that remark as she pulled out some more parchment from her beaded bag, causing Draco to chuckle.

“Another contract?”

“Not exactly,” she demurred, “I spoke with Kingsley today after I got confirmation that you and your parents signed the contract. He’s managed to keep Ron’s and mine marriage assignments quiet for now but Ron’s will be announced day after tomorrow and he would like to do the same for me. I also concluded that it might behoove us to get married sooner, rather than later.”

“Because of the children?”

Draco’s voice was low, but he leant forward as he waited to hear Granger finally admit to paternity.

She stared at him for a few moments and then sighed. “Yes.”

The smirk that bloomed over his face couldn’t be helped, and he actually found himself shaking his head and then smiling full on at his bride to be.

“You are...” he caught himself and then saw Granger’s eyes narrow as she bristled.

“I’m _what_?”

Her voice was hard and Draco realized she would probably tend to think the worst of him for a while after all their history.

“The most _cunning_ witch I’ve ever known.”

He watched in amusement as her cheeks blushed and her eyes widened at the confession before she looked away and murmured something under her breath he couldn’t quite make out. Her amber eyes then lifted and she said bitingly, “I don’t see how you can blame me for my own self-preservation, Malfoy. Should we _recap_ our less than stellar past? You’ve called me mudblood, _wished me dead._..hexed me, taunted me, watched me being tortured here in your home? Oh, and let’s not forget you fucked me and then bolted!” Her expression was angry but Draco could see the hurt there too. “I’m sure I could go on, but I think that highlights the more cognizant points, wouldn’t you agree?”

Draco’s jaw clenched, as he really didn’t need a blow by blow reminder of what a coward and hateful prat he’d been and lest he could ever forget...the way in which Granger was holding herself as if preparing for some vitriolic onslaught was enough to remind him of how much he’d hurt her over the years.

“I’m sorry, truly.”

Hermione’s mouth thinned but she didn’t respond to accept his apology, she just said, “We need to decide when to get married. I’m not doing it here and Kingsley knows this. He is willing to allow a one time concession for you and your parents to leave the Manor for our nuptials which can be held at the Ministry or my parent’s home.”

Draco blanched as he didn’t know how to respond. His parent’s would never concede to going out into the Muggle World, but his mother would be livid at having his wedding at the Ministry.

He couldn’t blame Granger for not wishing to get married in his home, but he had to admit...he was disappointed.

“I’ll need to discuss this with my parents.”

Hermione’s expression darkened but she nodded.

“It would behoove us to marry sooner than later. I’ve just passed the twelve week mark and I’m barely showing, but if your family doesn’t wish for speculation to begin as to when we actually conceived, next Saturday would be a good idea.”

Draco didn’t respond, as he agreed that it was probably for the best to get this over with. He didn’t want to give Granger a chance to change her mind.

“The Ministry requires consummation.”

“Yes.”

“And then?”

“I’m currently working on my Mastery in Arithmancy and am staying between my parent’s home in London and Hogwarts. As you so succinctly put it in your initial correspondence, you’re stuck here until next June.”

“And you really expect us to live separately?”

Hermione shrugged. “This _isn’t_ a love match, Malfoy. As you’ve said before, we have little in common—so I expected you’d be glad for my absence.”

Draco moved into Granger’s space and stared her down.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it! We are to be married, witch! Do you really think that it’s in our children’s best interests to have two parents who basically live separate lives and never see each other?”

Hermione stared back at him mutinously, not wanting to admit that Malfoy made an excellent point. She didn’t want their children to see them hating each other, despite her own feelings about this mess—she already loved her children and wanted them to be happy.

Or as happy as they could be with a git for a father and two bigoted Pureblood’s for grandparents.

Sensing her indecision, Draco took her hand and lifted it to his chest so she could feel his heart beating under her palm as he rested his hand over her’s gently.

“Look...” he began kindly, “I know this isn’t how either of us pictured our lives being, but I’m not unhappy about it despite what you might think. I remember that night too, Granger, and had I not wanted to be with you, I wouldn’t have despite being inebriated. I wasn’t so drunk that I didn’t know what I was doing. We both were a bit reckless that night, hence...” he waved to her stomach with a small smirk. “It would seem that fate intended for us to be bound one way or another.”

Hermione tilted her head down, not wanting to engage in a staring match with Malfoy. He’d always had that innate ability to put her on the defensive no matter the circumstances. She’d loathed him for years, and then had seen a softer side of him after the War—he’d been contrite and quiet...not at all like the arrogant boy she’d known for six years. He’d made her laugh, and they’d had interesting discussions on magical theory when they’d studied together most evenings within their shared common room.

Malfoy hadn’t many friends left in the magical world. Most of the eighth year Slytherins hadn’t returned to finish their schooling...preferring to do it elsewhere. Only Malfoy, Nott and Zabini had returned to retake their final year. The other two Slytherins had been as dismissive of her as always, but at least they hadn’t been downright hateful.

She didn’t know how long she’d stood there deep in thought, but eventually she heard Malfoy speak.

“Say something, Granger. Yell at me or punch me again? Do whatever you need to do so we can move on.”

Shaking her head and putting some distance between the two of them, Hermione just gave Malfoy an incredulous snort.

“It’s not that simple, Malfoy. We may share these children and have to consummate our marriage, but I don’t trust you. I don’t trust you not to revert to that same hateful boy who lived to make my life miserable. I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt once, but I just don’t think I have it in me to go back there again. We will raise these children together, but beyond that?” Shaking her head, she stepped back even more and watched Malfoy’s expression fall as he stared at her sadly.

“You’re really not going to give me another chance, are you?”

“Give me one good reason why I should?”

Draco’s lips pursed down as he continued to watch Granger, her entire demeanor screaming of stress and that she desperately wanted to bolt out of there and leave.

The thought sadly, was a sobering one.

“I wish I could.” He said at last, his whole body sagging in defeat. It was true, he couldn’t give Granger one good reason other than the fact that they shared these babies...for giving him another chance.

She just nodded and moved back towards the floo.

“Let me know what your parent’s decide.”

He just bowed his head in return and watched his future wife leave back the way she’d come...his gut clenching with the bitter remorse that made his stomach twist in knots.

He didn’t know how he was ever going to make this right.


	5. Taboo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius and Draco have a little chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support and I’m having some formatting issues with this chapter for some reason. Characters aren’t mine and belong to J.K. Rowling.

Lucius Malfoy was a proud wizard—always had been. He’d always deemed himself more cunning, clever and intelligent that anyone he knew.

That was until he’d been introduced to his Father’s friend from school—Tom Riddle.

When Riddle had taken on the persona of Lord Voldemort, Lucius had been eager to prove himself to the charismatic wizard who’s ideals on blood purity and magical might aligned well with his own.

But that had been before he’d been vanquished by a young baby and then returned nearly some fifteen years later stark raving mad.

He’d done his duty, as a marked Death Eater but the truth was he knew deep down that the Dark Lord was completely unhinged post resurrection.

But one simply didn’t say ‘no’ to the Dark Lord and live to tell the tale.

When he’d been dispatched, yet again, by the Potter brat—Lucius had been in part relieved but had also mourned for the missed chance to rid the magical world of mudbloods and their ilk.

Now it would seem his own son and Heir was to be married to the most famous of them all and Lucius was both disgusted and surprisingly, intrigued by the fact.

Hermione Granger...Brightest Witch of the Age, she was called, by more than one witch and wizard. Oh, he’d heard his fellow brethren discuss the witch...her heritage non-withstanding...there was more than one follower of the Dark Lord that had made their preference for the young witch well known.

Dolohov has been the most vocal after she’d silenced and maimed him in the Department of Mysteries and against all odds...survived his signature curse.

Lucius had begrudgingly admitted that the witch must’ve been powerful to survive such a dark spell but then she’d always beaten his son every year at school. Bested his marks and even Severus for all his favoritism of Slytherin’s, had lamented the girl’s intellect as much as he’d loathed her in general.

His own son had made it no secret from an early age that he’d noticed the witch. His words had often been filled with disdain and disgust...but Lucius wasn’t a fool. Draco had never once talked about any witch with the same passion in which he’d complained incessantly about the mudblood.

He had been _obsessed_.

And Lucius had known...deep down—that his son, for all the efforts in raising him to understand the importance of his heritage, had secretly been aware of Miss Granger in the way in which a wizard notices a witch he sees as more than an adversary...

_As an equal._

Lucius had to admit, when he’d read that contract and had been told the cognizant finer points by Draco, he’d been incensed...and then begrudgingly intrigued.

But after he’d signed the parchment and had seen the scars of his name cratered into his hand...the thought had come that his soon-to-be daughter-in-law (the thought was surely cringe-inducing), too, had permanent scars that she would never get rid of.

How would that reality be explained to his grandchildren?

Her contract expressly forbade both himself, Narcissa and Draco from using any derogatory remarks or terms about her particularly in the presence of any children she and Draco might have. He didn’t need anyone to tell him that if he went against that request, the consequences would be as inventive as her contract had been.

He’d rather not have that slur permanently scarred across his face or anywhere else on his person.

Narcissa had spent the past few days in relative silence. She hadn’t commented on the contract nor the fact that their son would be marrying the witch that had been tortured in their very home. His wife, whilst being raised a Black was also a Slytherin and a mother. She loved Draco more than anything and despite her willingness to support her husband’s more nefarious misdeeds, she loved their son more and only wanted his happiness.

Lucius was still having a hard time accepting that a witch of inferior birth could possibly make his son happy.

When he heard the light tapping on his study door, he murmured a ‘ _come_ ’ and wasn’t too surprised to see Draco standing there looking a bit nervous.

“Father.”

Lucius gestured to the seat across from his desk and eyed Draco as he took a seat, staring at the floor for a few moments before finding the courage to speak.

“Granger was just here.”

“Oh?”

Draco nodded and sighed. “She admitted the children are mine, not that I didn’t know it.”

Lucius just stared at his son, wisely choosing not to comment. There was obviously more to this conversation.

“She mentioned about the marriage ceremony. She refuses to be married here, but has worked out a compromise of sorts with the Minister.”

Lucius nodded, not surprised by this at all.

“Which is?”

“We can either be married at the Ministry, or at her childhood home.”

Lucius audibly hissed at the thought of sullying himself with such a concession. When he caught Draco’s gaze, his son’s demeanor was stoic and hard. His wife’s eyes (which were the only thing Draco had inherited from Narcissa) stared back at him with a warning.

“Father,” Draco began coldly, “I understand this wasn’t what either you or Mother had planned for my future, but I’m fairly certain you didn’t foresee our family image being tarnished beyond repair after the War?”

Lucius flinched subtly at the reminder of his family’s fall from grace. It rankled his pride to think that he’d brought so much shame to his family for following what in his heart he’d truly believed in.

Still did, if he was completely honest with himself.

This whole situation was intolerable.

“So what would you suggest we do, Draco?”

His son just stared at him morosely, but after a few moments stood up and walked over to the window, gazing out into the back gardens with a pensive expression on his face.

“She _hates_ me, Father—and despite us having children together? Granger has no intentions of us ever having a true marriage. I know that probably pleases you greatly, but haven’t I suffered enough for this family? I did my duty to the Dark Lord...to save you and Mother—not because I wanted to follow that lunatic.”

Lucius continued to watch his son and there was a part of him that felt guilty for all that Draco had suffered. It was expected that as a Malfoy and the Heir to the family, that Draco upheld the traditions of his lineage but Lucius could not have foreseen what following the Dark Lord would eventually bring down upon his own family.

He wasn’t sure if he had, he’d have made a different choice.

“What would you have me say, Draco? That I’m happy that centuries of Pureblood tradition is being thrown out the window because of this infernal marriage law? That our stock has fallen so far, that I can’t bribe, blackmail or threaten our way out of this mess? Am I supposed to sit idly by and not belabor the fact that my grandchildren will be half-bloods?”

Draco turned around and sneered at his Father in disgust.

“They will be Malfoy’s and powerful! Are you actually going hold their Mother’s heritage against them? Because I’m warning you, Father...I won’t have you do to my own children what you did to me!”

Lucius stood up and placed the palms of his hands on his desk as he leant forward in an offensive position.

“And what did I do, Son? Are you going to stand there and tell me that the choice was mine to make? That I, your mother or yourself had a choice in following the Dark Lord? Perhaps you might seek to look at that faded brand on your arm again to remind yourself where your own allegiance lay during the war, just as mine was. Your own disdain for _mudbloods_...”

Lucius hissed in shock as he finished the word...pain shooting up his arm. He pulled at his cloak and rolled up his shirt sleeve in panic as he felt the flesh burn on his right forearm.

Draco came over and his eyes widened in shock and then he couldn’t help the smirk that flittered over his face at his Father’s dark look.

“I think that word is now expressly _forbidden_ , Father. It looks like you have a nasty reminder too.”

“ _ **That vicious, hateful chit!”**_

Lucius howled as he grabbed his tumbler and threw it against the far wall in a fit of rage...alerting his wife to his state.

“Lucius?” Narcissa came into the study in a flurry of silk. “What is going on here?”

Her husband held out his arm, and Draco watched his Mother’s eyes widen in shock. When her piercing gaze fell upon him, Draco swallowed nervously but shrugged.

“Father said that word, and _voila_!”

“This is unacceptable!”

Lucius growled while Narcissa just shook her head as she waved her wand running several diagnostic scans over the boils that spelled out the word ‘ _mudblood_ ’ on her husband’s forearm.

“But it’s acceptable that my future wife has that word permanently scarred with dark magic on her person?”

Lucius just snarled while Narcissa tutted in exasperation.

“Draco, you must call Miss Granger here and have her fix this.”

“Right...cause that’s going to happen.”

“Don’t get cheeky with me, My Dragon.”

“Mum, I doubt Granger is going to be sympathetic to Father’s plight anymore than I can convince her to come here. She has offered to have the wedding at her parent’s home in London...” his Mother’s face pinched as her lips pursed in disdain. “But if Father were to make the effort, perhaps Granger might take pity on him and lift the hex.”

Draco almost laughed at the gobsmacked expression on his Father’s face as he had to wonder which part of his Father held more sway.

The vain part or the highly prejudiced one...

Narcissa sighed as she ran the last of her scans and shook her head again, this time in defeat.

“I am sorry, love. I can’t undo it and I suppose our son has a valid argument.”

“You can’t be _serious_ , Cissy!”

“Would you rather be branded for the rest of your days with that slur?”

The affronted expression let both Narcissa and Draco know that option was not a viable one.

“I guess we will be getting married at Granger’s home then?” He murmured questioningly and tried his best not to flinch at his parent’s angry stares.

“Right then,” he nodded. “I’ll let her know.”

He quickly escaped his Father’s study, not wishing to see nor hear anymore from either one of his parents on the subject of his wife, marriage or children.

Fuck, this whole thing was such a mess!


	6. Best Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione, Ron and Harry discuss the wedding...

Hermione received Malfoy’s response to the wedding venue the next morning and when she’d given the letter to her parents to read, both her parents had nodded in satisfaction.

After missing a year of their daughter’s life and everything that had happened to her during the Magical war, they weren’t going to miss out on another moment.

So, it was decided that the wedding would be held at Hermione’s maternal grandmother’s home, which her Mother had inherited some years prior. The home had been left in the care of the small staff who took care of the relatively modest eight bedroom Manor home in Haverfordwest, Pembrokshire. The lands encompassed about five acres and a lovely sprawling lawn on the south side of the house that would work for a simple wedding of this nature.

Helen called the groundskeeper immediately and explained the situation, and bade him to get the grounds and rooms ready for guests for the Saturday next.

She then called several catering services that Hermione’s grandmother had used for throwing parties at the home and by the end of the day, a firm plan was in place.

The home itself wasn’t too old...about 200 years or so. The outside facing was in white stone with large columns surrounding the entry to the main house and a large balcony on the back side.

Nothing quite as pompous as Malfoy Manor, but it was pretty and picturesque and would have to do.

Hermione then contacted Kingsley, as well as Harry and Ron to let them know that the contract had been signed and that the announcements could go forward in the Prophet come tomorrow.

Thankfully she’d be back at Hogwarts in the relative safety of her fortress of solitude and wouldn’t need to deal with the immediate fallout for a few days.

When Ron and Harry had gotten her owl, they’d found her working in the Library at Hogwarts a couple days later—both of them worried and livid in equal measure.

“You’re really going to marry that ferret?”

“Yes, Ron...” Hermione sighed and waved her wand to ward that part of the library from prying eyes and ears. “I am pregnant with his children and despite my loathing of his parents and my general lack of fondness for Malfoy in particular...I would’ve been paired with him regardless.”

“But _Mione_ ,” Ron pleaded, “You don’t have to marry him! You have an out, why don’t you take it?”

Harry sat back, and even though he wasn’t commenting...his own expression indicated he was curious for that answer as well.

“Look, both of you...I don’t expect you to understand but as much as I dislike Malfoy...”

“Not enough to not shag the git...” Ron muttered, earning dark looks from both his best mates...

“Well, I was _drunk_.” Hermione bit out and then sighed in defeat. “It wasn’t my smartest decision, alright? But I can’t compound that by denying my children their right to their father. Whether or not you both disagree...I’ve made sure to protect them and myself as well as I can. I have no intention of living at Malfoy Manor. I have no intention of having a relationship with Malfoy’s parents because despite their willingness to sign the contract, I’m not thick enough to believe they’ll be welcoming to myself or these children I’m carrying.”

“And Malfoy?” Harry asked, warily.

“He all but begged me to keep the Ministry contract in place. He definitely wants these children, despite me being their mother.”

“I don’t think he’s as adverse to that idea as you seem to think he is.” 

Harry mumbled and Hermione just scoffed.

“Just because we shagged once, Harry—doesn’t mean that Draco Malfoy has suddenly seen the error of his bigoted ways and has had a change of heart. He shagged me, then _left_. He was betrothed to Astoria Greengrass, for Godric’s sake. Do you honestly think if this infernal Ministry Law hadn’t happened, and I had found out I was pregnant that Draco Malfoy would’ve ever claimed my children? _Please_! He’d have married Astoria as per his parents wishes and I’d be left raising these children on my own!”

“Would you have kept them?”

Hermione turned to regard Ron, who’s question wasn’t unexpected even if it did make her feel uncomfortable.

“Maybe?” She said slowly. “I’d like to think it wouldn’t have made a difference, but I can’t say for certain because that’s not my reality.”

“Can we hex or curse him?”

“Haven’t you already done that once, Harry?” Grinned Ron, and Harry nodded and chuckled despite Hermione glowering at the both of them.

“Are you both _done_?”

By the sheepish expressions of both her best friend’s faces, Hermione figured they were.

“You know we love you, right Mione?” Ron said pleadingly. “You know no matter what happens with you and the ferret, you have Harry and I to help you and the kids?”

Hermione sniffled as she nodded. 

“I know, Ron. I love you both too and just want you both to understand why I’m doing this. These children are magical and I just got my parents back here in Britain. I can’t upheaval my life and theirs yet again because of the shoddy and piss poor planning of the Magical World. I won’t do that to them nor you both. I can’t leave here. This is my home and you two are my family just like my Mum and Dad. I want my children to go to Hogwarts and for it to be fine. There’s no telling what Lucius Malfoy might have done had that man found out that I was pregnant and giving birth to Malfoy’s children. This protects them too.”

“That contract was rather brilliant.” Harry agreed smugly. “Does Malfoy and his parents know about the taboo?”

Hermione shook her head. She’d gotten the idea for the taboo from the War and Voldemort’s name being verboten. It was just another little treat she’d thought of last minute.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them has suffered yet.” 

Ron smiled and Harry nodded.

“My odds are on old Lucius.” Harry replied and Hermione tilted her head down and smirked.

She was fairly certain that Lucius would be the first victim too.

Luckily, he didn’t know that there was an expiration date on the hex.

The first time it would last for three days and each subsequent use it would return and last longer. After the fourth violation...the hex would be permanent and could only be lifted by her.

Ingenious piece of magic combining her hexed parchment in fifth year with a modification of the taboo curse.

“So you both are going to come next Saturday, right?”

Both boys nodded. “Mum and Da will be there as will Ginny, Bill, Fleur, George and Charlie. Percy has plans. Who else you inviting?”

“Luna, Neville and Andromeda. Kingsley will be officiating and I’m thinking Malfoy will invite Nott and Zabini. They were still fairly close eighth year.”

“Do you think Andi will come if Narcissa is there?” Harry inquired.

“Of course.” Hermione nodded. “Andromeda isn’t afraid to see her sister and I could care less what Mrs. Malfoy thinks about her sister being there. Andi is family, as is Teddy.”

“Maybe you could invite Viktor too?” 

Ron smirked and Hermione’s eyes gleamed with interest at that thought, but quickly shut it aside.

“That wouldn’t be fair to Viktor.”

“He’d not mind, Mione.” Harry said with a firm voice. “Ginny told me he was asking about you the last time she’d seen him for some Quidditch promotional thing.”

“I’ll think about it.” Was all Hermione would commit to.

Looking at the time, Harry sighed. “We have to head back to London. Let us know if you need anything?”

Hermione stood and gave each of her friend’s a hug goodbye. 

“I will, promise.”

Once the terms of affection were given in parting, Hermione went back to her Mastery work. She was fairly certain that the next ten days were going to drag by.


	7. Wedding Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day has arrived and the ceremony is ready to go...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who’ve read and reviewed, left a kudo or two. Much appreciated! Hope you enjoy the next installment.

Staring at her reflection in the full length antique mirror in her bedroom of her Grandmother’s home, Hermione realized that the last ten days of her life as a free witch had flown by in a flurry of chaos and stress.

Her Mum, who despite not being on board with the whole Marriage Law fiasco, had decided to employ the quintessential English stiff upper lip and soldiered on with wedding planning for her only child. The Chef—Maurice DuMonde, who was a squib was contacted and the magical staff had been booked by a French wedding planner that Fleur knew from Beauxbatons. She had been employed to handle the more mundane tasks like setting up the outside area with a large canopied main tent. Padded velvet chairs, flowers, and a string quartet that would play during the ceremony and the reception. The caterers would serve a six-course sit down meal with an amuse-bouche, a soup, appetizer, salad, main course and the wedding cake for dessert.

Helen had decided that she would give no reason for her soon to be bigoted in laws to think lesser of her daughter by not throwing a proper wedding on short notice.

She had even managed to find a designer dress from one of her patients who owned a fashion boutique and received sample sizes. A simple trade had been offered and accepted and the dress, procured.

It was Atlier Versace. A dusty rose fitted lace bodice with a sweeping full embellished skirt.

It was a dress made for a princess.

And so, as Hermione stared at herself in the mirror of her room, in her wedding gown that probably was worth thousands of pounds—a solitary tear made its way down her cheek at the thought that this beautiful gown and all the hard work her Mum had put into this day—was being wasted on a ferret and his family.

Smoothing her hands down the bodice of the gown, she turned around to see Ginny staring morosely at her.

“Are you _really_ sure you want to do this, Hermione?”

“No,” she admitted with a casual shrug, “but what choice do I have, Ginny? I don’t want my children to be raised without their father, and as much as I loathe Malfoy, I slept with the prat. Got up the duff with Malfoy progeny. I have no one but myself to blame for the conundrum I now find myself in.”

“Well, your Mum certainly outdid herself today,” Ginny said with a kind smile, “the venue is gorgeous. Everything is simply exquisite. I doubt Narcissa Malfoy could have an unkind word to say.”

“Don’t tempt fate, Gin...” Hermione giggled, “that woman always looks like she’s smelling something foul underfoot. I don’t suppose I can expect anything different today.”

“Probably not.”

The door opened and Hermione’s mother walked in with Molly.

“Oh, Dearie!” Molly gushed. “You look like a princess.”

“Thanks Molly.” Hermione gave the woman a brief hug then went to her Mum, who was fiddling with a box.

“So tradition..yes?”

Hermione nodded as her mother handed her the gift.

“This will be your something old. It was my Great-Great-Grandmother’s.”

Hermione opened the box and gasped at the Victorian diamond fringe necklace. The silver over gold necklace was comprised of clovers, tulips and brilliant diamonds in a cascade shape. Both Ginny and Molly gasped too, at the beautiful piece of jewelry.

After her Mum had put it on her—Hermione turned back to the mirror and smiled softly at how pretty it looked. She then said emotively, “Thanks, Mum.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie.”

Molly smiled and said, “When Helen asked us to take part in this tradition, I decided on bestowing your something borrowed and blue.”

Molly pulled out an antique laced square with magical blue thread embossed in the edges and lifted up her gown to magically attach it to the underskirt.

“It’s an antique Weasley pattern, and it will bring you good luck, health and prosperity.”

Hermione sniffled as she grasped Molly into another hug. 

“Thank you. And thank you for coming today. I know this can’t be easy for you and Mr. Weasley.”

“Oh, pish posh young lady,” the Weasley Matriarch admonished softly, “you are a daughter to us as well. We wouldn’t be anywhere else today.”

Helen smiled at Molly and the two women joined arms as Ginny came over with another gift.

“Your something new, right?”

Hermione wiped her eyes as she nodded.

Ginny handed her the small velvet pouch and Hermione opened it and chuckled.

Leave it to Ginny, Ron and Harry to give her something like this.

When she pulled it out, she held it up to her Mum who gave the trinket a questioning look.

“What is that?”

“It’s a replica charmed galleon that I made during fifth year for communication but my friends have fashioned this one into a trinket for me to wear.”

“Harry’s idea.” Ginny said proudly. “He managed to shrink it a bit and then fashioned it into that bracelet.”

“Clever.” Hermione quipped playfully and Ginny snorted.

The clock downstairs chimed out the quarter hour and Hermione tensed. In thirty minutes she’d be married to Draco sodding Malfoy.

If it wasn’t for the pregnancy, she’d be shite-faced right about now.

“Is he here yet?”

Helen sighed and nodded.

“He came with his parents and a couple young men and their dates...along with the Minister and Harry.”

“What was their reaction?”

Helen smirked and lifted an elegant eyebrow. 

“I don’t think this was what they were expecting. But it’s no matter. We will make do as we always have.”

“Yes, Mum.”

“Good,” Helen replied regally, “I will head on down and send your Father to get you in fifteen minutes. We must start on time.”

Hermione nodded as she watched her Mother and Molly leave the room and then Ginny, with one last hug—and a promise to bat bogey Malfoy if she ever should require it—left her alone with her thoughts running on overdrive.

Checking her reflection once last time, Hermione startled when a knock sounded on her door.

“Come in.”

A messy black head peeked in, and Hermione smiled widely as she waved her best friend in. Harry was followed by Ron, who just stood there in the doorway gobsmacked speechless.

“Blimey, Hermione, you look beautiful.” Harry said with a soft kiss on her cheek.

“Thanks, Harry.”

The Boy Who Lived turned to their other best friend and said, “Ron? Doesn’t Hermione look great?”

Ron just continued to stare and they both chuckled as Harry snarked out, “I think you broke him, Hermione.”

Hermione just blushed, but she smiled wistfully at her red-headed best friend whom at one point in the not too distant past—she had hoped might be the wizard waiting for her at the other end of the wedding aisle.

“You okay, Ron?”

Ron cleared his throat several times before he nodded. 

“Harry’s right, you know? You look beautiful.”

“Always the tone of surprise.” 

Hermione bit back with a half-grin and Harry chucked deeply. Even Ron smirked before his face fell in despair.

“This is **mad** ,” he began, ignoring Harry’s sudden scowl.

“Ron, you _promised_.”

“I know I did, but it doesn’t mean I have to like this, Harry!” Ron’s voice started to elevate in pitch. “Do we really mean to let Mione marry that ferret?”

“Ron,” Hermione reached for her best friend’s hands and grasped them in her’s...giving them a loving squeeze in reassurance. “I know there was a time we both thought this would be you and me, but it didn’t work out that way. I’m okay with that fact, because I just want you to be happy. Please trust in me to believe that I know what I’m doing here. I don’t have any unrealistic expectations going into this marriage. I know the Malfoy’s will never accept me, and I’m okay with that fact. I don’t care what they think about me, but I do care about my children. I love them enough to try and be civil with their father and to make the best of this bad situation. I’ve protected myself and them as well as I can. Yes, I suppose I could’ve waited and hoped that someday I would find a wizard loving enough to be there for me and raise these two little ones as his own—but we both know Malfoy well enough to know that while his family is out of favor now...he’d never let this go once he’d realized the likelihood of him being the father. Whether it would’ve been to get back at me and make me suffer, or because he genuinely would’ve wanted his children? I’ll never know. At least this way I hold all the cards.”

Both Harry and Ron held her within their embrace as they stood together as a trio—drawing comfort from each other until a soft knock sounded on the door and her dad called out her name.

“Hermione, you ready? It’s almost time.”

Hermione pulled back and cupped each one of her friend’s cheeks within her palm and smiled adoringly at the two wizards who would always mean the most to her no matter what.

“I love you both,” she whispered out emotionally, “and we will always be there for each other. We’ve been through too much to not be. No matter who we marry, where we go or what we do in this life...we will always have each other. Right?”

“Damn right!” Harry piped in firmly and Ron nodded, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“What Harry said.” 

Ron whispered in reply, causing them all to chuckle.

Another knock sounded and Hermione took a deep breath in resolve.

“It’s showtime.”

All three of the Golden Trio nodded, knowing deep in their hearts that no matter what came after this day...they would always have each other’s backs...no matter what.

Watching her two best friends leave her room, a wave of melancholy gripped Hermione’s heart. Things were changing and she could only hope that the foundation that the three of them had built would weather the storm coming.

When her father came into the room, he smiled widely at his little girl.

“You look simply exquisite, pumpkin.”

“Thanks, Daddy.”

“You ready for this?”

Shrugging slightly, Hermione just replied, “As I’ll ever be.”

Walking down the stairs towards the back balcony, Hermione could hear the string quartet from here. She peered out the French doors and sighed.

“Mum really outdid herself.”

Richard chuckled deeply. “Your mother wanted to make a statement it’s true, but she also wanted you to have a day you could look back on and remember fondly. Someday, when these babies you’re carrying are old enough—they will ask you about this day and hopefully—you’ll be able to tell them with absolute honesty that it had been as filled with love and hope as you could’ve asked for.”

Hermione sighed. “And their Father?”

Richard’s lip pursed in displeasure for a split second, before he too...sighed.

“I don’t know what the future will bring for you and that young man,” her father began stiffly, “but I do know that when he was introduced to us by the Minister, he was polite and respectful. He even thanked your mother and I for making sure you had the wedding you deserved.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, but she didn’t reply immediately. She couldn’t very well imagine Malfoy trying to score points with her parents.

His parents were another issue altogether.

“And his parents?”

Richard chuckled again. “Shocked, I think is the correct word. From their expressions, I don’t believe they were expecting something of this quality to be put together on such short notice. The mother in particular seemed surprised when we showed them out to the venue and their seats.”

“That’s Mum for you.”

“Yes.” Richard agreed easily. “Your Mother would never allow anyone to think less of you or our family. She may not agree with this, and may feel you deserve so much better...but if this is your choice...she will stand by it and do all she can to make sure everything is as you deserve, pumpkin.”

Hermione wiped a tear from the corner of her eye as she sniffled. “And you, Dad?”

“I’m just glad I get to give my brilliant daughter away today.” He replied proudly. “I’ve never doubted in your ability to turn this situation to your advantage. Personally? I hope you make the little shite _squirm_.”

Hermione eyes widened in shock before she threw her head back in rich laughter, followed by her father’s guffaws as the music swelled and Mendelsshon’s Wedding March started to play.

The doors opened with a wave of Hermione’s hand and her father led her out onto the balcony and down the steps to the left. When they got to the head of the aisle, all the guests stood.

There were a total of about twenty guests in all.

Kingsley, Minerva, Andromeda, all the Weasley’s sans Charlie and Percy—Fleur, Luna, Harry, Dean, Seamus and Neville. Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones (who were matched to Neville and Ron respectively). Hermione and her parents as well as Draco and his parents. Nott, Zabini, Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson (which Hermione had found odd, until she saw Parkinson on Nott’s arm and Greengrass on Zabini’s). As far as she knew Zabini was to be married to Cho Chang who was a half-blood while Nott was being paired with Pavarti Patil.

She smiled at her side of the aisle, nodding to a few of the guests. When she noticed Malfoy’s friends and family, she masked her displeasure at their presence.

She couldn’t very well expect Malfoy to not have a few of his friends in attendance, even if she detested them all.

When her gaze locked with Parkinson, the witch sneered and Hermione just smirked and winked at the stuck up bitch.

Then she saw Zabini chuckle slightly and even Daphne...who hadn’t missed the subtle exchange, smirk too.

Her gaze finally landed on her future in laws and Lucius Malfoy surprisingly, was wearing Muggle black tie...which the event called for.

Who knew the bigoted prat had such attire to his name.

Narcissa Malfoy’s gaze was shrewd as her blue eyes assessed every square inch of her appearance from her hair, necklace to her dress.

Hermione couldn’t tell if the snobbish witch found her appearance wanting or not.

Harry and Ron as expected, were right up front and center...staring at the back of Malfoy’s head mutinously as the blonde wizard had his back to her—as if he knew what the Muggle tradition entailed and had been warned not to turn around until the last.

Hermione winked at her two best mates, who both smiled widely at her.

Harry even returned the wink.

Her mother was wiping away a few stray tears and the expression on Helen’s face was filled with love and pride as she smiled adoringly at both her daughter and husband.

The last couple steps towards Malfoy were the hardest. Kingsley, who was standing under the awning of beautiful fall flowers, nodded once to her—his own expression placid, as if he was afraid to let anyone see what he was truly thinking.

But his eyes were filled with tenderness as he watched her make her final approach towards her future husband.

When she was finally next to Malfoy, she saw him turn to face her out of the corner of her eye and she almost laughed out loud at his utterly gobsmacked expression. His eyes greedily took in her appearance and then that infernal smirk lifted on the corner of his mouth as his eyes darkened lustfully.

Yeah— _keep dreaming pretty boy._..Hermione’s internal monologue swelled as she stubbornly refused to admire or admit to herself that Draco Malfoy in a Muggle tuxedo was definitely swoon-worthy.

Then Kingsley cleared his throat and spoke as the music ebbed away.

“Welcome friends and family this day to the wedding of Hermione Jean Granger and Draco Lucius Malfoy. The marriage ceremony has been, in the annals of History, one of the most shared practices regardless of culture, religion, generation or societal expectations. In the Magical World, bonds of marriage, fidelity and fertility are often shared between prospective spouses as a means to honor and cherish their future union and that of their family unit. But first, I must ask...who gives this woman to this man to be wed in matrimony?”

Hermione looked to her father, who’s brown eyes were locked onto grey ones. There was a warning in his gaze—as well as other emotions Hermione wasn’t sure she wanted to name, but she was surprised when Malfoy bowed his head respectfully at her father.

“Her Mother and I do.” Richard said as he kissed his daughter’s cheek and whispered, ‘ _love you, pumpkin_ ,’ then sat down next to his wife...who was stoically observing.

Kingsley nodded and smiled at the Grangers.

“I have had the opportunity to know Hermione for many years now. I have seen her loyalty, bravery and kindness in the face of adversity. She has risen to every challenge placed before her with grace and tenacity. I wanted to take a minute to share a story that I’m sure many of you are aware cursorily...but perhaps some of you are not.”

Kingsley looked down at the bride to be and she smiled and nodded...knowing what he was going to say.

“As part of the Order, I was tasked on the night of July 31, 1997 to retrieve Harry from his home in Little Whinging and as such...Hermione and I were partnered together. Riding upon a thestral, and she being polyjuiced as her best friend—we fought side by side for our very lives that night. A stray killing curse had headed my way and without a thought to the consequences, she managed to push her body into mine and redirect our thestral barely in time...saving my life in the process.” Kingsley smirked when he saw the eyes widen on everyone’s faces...it was obviously something Hermione hadn’t shared with anyone. “I owe her a debt that I can never repay, but a friendship was cemented that day and I am gratified that I can take part in this moment with Hermione and her friends, family and intended.”

Hermione smiled and wiped a lone tear from the corner of her eye.

“Bonds such as these are what makes the magical world different...but not entirely unique. The trust inherent in such bonds can never be overlooked.”

Hermione lifted her hand and felt Draco’s warm one take it into his embrace.

Once clasped, Kingsley waved his wand and a silver cord appeared as he said, “ _Vita fidelium vinculum._..the bond of fidelity.”

The cords swirled around both of her’s and Malfoy’s wrists.

Kingsley then waved his wand again and another silver cord appeared. “ _De familia vinculum_...the bond of Family.”

The second silver cord wrapped its way around the first.

“ _Foedere et vide veriatis._..the bond of truth and trust.”

Another silver cord.

And then finally...

“ _Vinculum matrimonii ex nunc et semper._..bonded in marriage for now and always.”

A gold cord swirled around the others and tightened. Hermione felt her eyes widen in shock and she could see Malfoy’s doing the same as the cord pulsed once, twice and then...sparks of silver and gold showered over them.

“ _Sic fiat semper.._.” Kingsley nodded, pleased. “So mote it be.”

He then smiled smugly. “You may kiss your bride, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco turned to his wife, who’s amber eyes were glaring up at him promising retribution should he so much as think of anything more than a perfunctory kiss.

He had to admit, he’d been suitably impressed when he’d entered Granger’s home. He knew enough from his school days to know that Hermione Granger was no plebe...despite her blood status. She’d always had the newest robes, finest supplies and a plethora of books at her whim. Her mannerisms spoke of refinement, her haughty voice especially the first two years...screamed of upper class. But even he’d been surprised walking into this home and seeing the arrangements her parents...probably her mother...had managed to put together in a fortnite.

Even his mother was stunned speechless.

His Father had been his usual disdainful, surly self.

Then the ceremony had started and Draco had to admit again that the understated elegance of the event was exactly what he would’ve preferred even if this had been his wedding to Astoria. He’d never understood all the pomp and ridiculousness of large weddings...even if it was to be expected.

His first glance at his bride had left him flummoxed.

The second glance appreciative.

Then the final emotions of pride and lust had taken over his thoughts.

Hermione Granger..now Malfoy...was utterly exquisite and he couldn’t wait to get her out of her wedding dress and into his bed.

But for now a kiss would have to suffice.

Wrapping his arm around her waist, he watched his little wife’s eyes widen comically before he placed his lips upon hers.

He felt her body stiffen as he worked his lips over hers in a searching kiss, but just as he was about to deepen it...Hermione pulled away and their eyes locked in challenge as the crowd clapped politely for them.

“Hello, _wife_.” He whispered so only she could hear him.

Hermione’s cheeks darkened and her eyes blistered intently as she retorted lowly, “ _Piss off, ferret_.”

His deep chuckle, and her even deeper blush let Draco know that he was in for one hell of a ride.


	8. Fractured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reception brings out the best and worst in everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who’ve read and reviewed...left a kudo too! ♥️♥️♥️

**_Awkward..._ **

That had to be the word of the day as far as Hermione was concerned.

The wedding ceremony had thankfully, been short and relatively painless except for the end.

And that _kiss_...

Now, as she looked around the large gazebo, she could see her friends and family doing their level best to try and enjoy the evening for what it was worth. The string quartet was playing in the distance and the gazebo—which was large enough to fit four circular tables—each with seating for as many as eight people...was located in the side walled garden near the ballroom and the downstairs kitchens.

The cream tablecloths accented the rose, carnation and tulip flower arrangements in soft colors. The herringbone China and gold-plated flatware belonged to her Grandmother’s, grandmother—and the crystal goblets were Waterford.

Malfoy had offered her his arm after the ceremony had ended, and once she’d kissed her parents and given polite nods to the rest of their guests...he led her straight to their reception seating. Now however, as Hermione took a small sip of her sparkling water, and the servers cleared the fourth course—a lovely pan roasted quail in rosemary and sage—she heard her newly minted husband clear his throat softly...trying to get her attention.

Tilting her head slightly in his direction, her gaze lifted until it met his.

“Your Mother really did a beautiful job.”

Hermione sighed, as she couldn’t argue the truth with Malfoy no matter how she might wish to. His parents who were sitting on his left were glaring at her parents—who were on her right. Neither one had made any effort beyond the cursory platitudes to engage in open conversation.

In fact, if the repeated stare downs between her Mum and Narcissa Malfoy were any indication—the likelihood of the in-laws getting along was next to nil.

“She just wanted to make sure that I wasn’t going to be denied every consideration even if some of my choices were bereft of agency.”

Draco’s mouth thinned as he stared down at his plate.

“You could’ve walked away?”

He grumbled in a low whisper and Hermione just hummed noncommittally, but didn’t take the bait.

They both knew that neither one of them, despite their dislike for the other—would’ve ever denied their children the right to a proper family.

Hermione’s eye caught Pansy’s again and the Slytherin witch was watching her with open disdain...which caused Hermione to roll her eyes for effect.

Draco hadn’t missed the silent exchange and he glared at his friend, who blushed uncomfortably before turning her attention back to her glass of champagne.

Then he sighed in resignation...knowing that despite evidence to the contrary...he wasn’t really upset with the turn of events at all.

His little wife was even more delectable now that he’d been able to ogle her for the past two hours or so.

“You do look beautiful.” He demurred and wasn’t surprised when Granger... _shite_!

She wasn’t Granger anymore!

“I suppose the polite answer is to say, Thank you?”

“You’re unsure how to take a compliment?”

“From _you_? I’d imagine it’s akin to blasphemy in your little Pureblood world...complimenting one of my birth?”

“ _Wife_...” Draco’s voice was grave as he said the word with a warning tone, “can we not do this here and now?”

Hermione turned to face him more directly, her eyes bright and feigned with guilelessness.

He just smirked and shook his head subtly.

She was such a little minx.

“I’m sorry, _Husband_...” she said the word with just the right inflection of labored fatigue, “I wasn’t aware that I was required to curb my tongue when it came to speaking the truth. Perhaps, if you’re going to argue the debated point that things have changed...you might want to look at your personal guests, who haven’t stopped glaring daggers at me all evening.”

“That’s just Pansy.”

“Oh, and I’m sure your parents don’t count?”

“ **Hermione**...”

The subtle plea in Malfoy’s voice caused Hermione to take another measured sip of her sparkling water—as the fifth course...endive salad with kumquat and pomegranate arils...was placed in front of her. She murmured a quiet ‘ _Thank you’_ and then sighed longingly when she saw the server pour a selection of white wine for some of the guests.

Her lips pursed when she heard Malfoy’s chuckle.

“Must be tough, not being able to get through today without any liquid courage?”

His grey eyes sparkled as he took a healthy sip of his Chardonnay, and Hermione couldn’t help but stare morosely at the golden liquid.

“You have no idea—but feel free to indulge all you want, Malfoy,” her voice was cajoling, “no reason we both have to abstain.”

His chuckle deepened as he looked over at her with a knowing gleam in his eye.

“Nice try, wife...but we both know consummation is required tonight and I fully intended to remain sober enough to enjoy myself throughly.”

Hermione huffed as she mumbled darkly, “ _Lucky me.”_

Conversation stalled for a bit until the last course, the cake...was brought out.

The gasps of everyone were to be expected as her Mum had really outdone herself with this one.

The baker was a personal friend of the family, who her Mum had grown up with and owned one of the premier wedding bakeries in all of London. The lemon sponge cake was soaked in elderflower cordial and had Swiss buttercream icing surrounded in peonies and roses both fresh and icing. The cake had been delivered this morning and Hermione had placed it under a stasis spell to preserve it for this moment.

“That is a work of art.” Draco said softly, and he was surprised to see his mother nod at the comment.

Even his father seemed impressed.

Helen smirked at her husband as she stood and walked over to where the staff had levitated the cake to the proper table. She then pulled out a silver serving set and smiled to the group.

“Richard and I, just wanted to take a quick moment to thank you all for coming today in support and celebration of Draco and Hermione.”

Everyone lifted their glasses in a silent toast, and Hermione was surprised to see the Slytherin contingent sans Pansy...follow suit.

“Now why don’t you both come over and cut the cake?”

Draco stood and pulled out his wife’s chair, offering her his hand which she only hesitated briefly to take. Once they got to the cake, the wedding photographer...whom Hermione had ignored for most of the day—was waiting to take another picture.

She grabbed the cake knife and allowed Malfoy to place his hand over hers...ignoring the slight tingling along her skin at his touch...as they cut the first slice together and plated it.

Malfoy then took a small piece and fed it to her properly.

When she reached for her slice, the instinct to smash the cake in his pompous face was strong...and by the smirk on the ferret’s face he knew what she was thinking of doing—but her Mum’s subtle cough and slight shake of the head let Hermione know that now was not the time for that particular revenge.

That could come later.

So she fed the piece of cake to her husband—all perfect and formal, to the polite applause of their guests and then the servers came over to pass a slice of cake to everyone.

Hermione decided to take that moment to walk over to her parents.

She was rather exhausted.

“You alright, pumpkin?” Her father whispered, and Hermione nodded.

“Just tired. Emotionally, physically... _mentally_.” She then turned to her Mum and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Mum, for all this. You too, Daddy. I know this wasn’t easy on either of you but I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.”

Helen smiled tremulously as she cupped her daughter’s face with her hands.

“Sweetheart, this day was for you. I know your history with that young man has been fraught with ugliness and hurt but perhaps it’s the optimist in me that hopes that somehow you both can find common ground. I know you plan to make him suffer a bit, and your father and I applaud keeping him on his toes...but don’t forget that this is the man you’ll be married to for the rest of your life. Somehow, you’re going to have to figure out how to be partnered with him.”

“I know,” Hermione admitted with a grimace, “but I don’t trust him. I don’t trust his parents either, and I don’t believe that they’ll ever change their hateful ways. I don’t regret the contract either.”

Helen chuckled and a fierce twinkle sparkled in her gaze. “Have you noticed that the father keeps pulling at his right forearm?”

Hermione turned and glanced over at Lucius and sure enough, about a minute later he started scratching his right arm.

“Oh Merlin!” Hermione whispered in glee. “He broke the taboo.”

“I do believe so.” Helen hummed softly, but Richard clearly wasn’t amused as he glared angrily.

“Daddy,” Hermione admonished, “leave the bigot alone for now. He’ll figure out soon enough the hex isn’t permanent. At least not for the first offense.”

That truth, had Richard Granger grinning momentarily like the Cheshire Cat.

When he caught the elder Malfoy’s gaze, the men stared each other down until Lucius went to grab his arm again and Richard just lifted an eyebrow and smirked.

Grey eyes narrowed, before Lucius Malfoy stood abruptly and offered his wife his hand.

Then they went over to their son and whispered something into the boy’s ear...causing him to sigh and nod.

Hermione watched with a stoic expression as Malfoy led his parents over to where she was standing with her Mum and Dad as everyone tried not to openly stare at the fact that Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were going to have to converse with Muggles.

“Mr. and Mrs. Granger?” Draco began politely, “I just wanted to thank you again for all the effort that it must have taken to pull this together on such short notice.”

Helen’s gaze shifted from the blonde couple to her new son-in-law and she nodded in acknowledgment.

“You’re very welcome, Draco.” Her hazel eyes flitted to the other couple and she said stiffly, “Richard and I, were gratified that you both could come.”

Lucius just stood there, his gaze locked with that of the mudblood’s father, who kept eyeing him and his arm with amusement.

_Bugger!_

Narcissa however, cleared her throat primly even as her nose crinkled in that way of hers.

Like she was smelling something rotten.

“We wouldn’t have missed our _son’s_ wedding.” Her reply wasn’t much warmer then Helen’s had been. “And Draco is correct, in that the wedding was nearly _exactly_ as I had expected.”

Helen tilted her head at the other woman, her eyes gleaming at the subtle backhanded compliment.

“Oh?” Hermione’s mother wondered aloud. “I wasn’t aware that those in your circle had that kind of _proper_ knowledge?”

There was a slight cough from somewhere over Narcissa’s shoulder, but the witch ignored it as her eyes narrowed at the other woman.

“It helps to be educated in all forms of extraneous _frippery_.”

Another cough, and a snort.

“Hmmm,” Helen mirrored the other woman’s body language. “That’s _riveting_. My daughter did mention to me once that Hogwarts has rather archaic pedagogical instructional teachings when it came to certain subjects. But I’m sure that one can’t expect true enlightenment based on... _how many years of schooling is it, dear? Seven? Total?”_ Hermione’s mother shivered at that in abject disgust. “I suppose I could offer you some _light_ reading if that might help you. Proper education is such a useful tool to have, after all.”

Everyone was silent now, as the two women just glowered at each other, while Draco shook his head as he mouthed to his wife... ‘ _really_?’

Hermione just glared at him.

Then Lucius rubbed his arm again and Richard chuckled knowingly.

“That arm bothering you, Mr. Malfoy?”

The wizard sneered, and Draco coughed in surprise—his eyebrow lifting at his new wife who was now smirking in triumph.

Even Helen’s expression had morphed into something predatory as her lips quirked up in a pleased expression.

“Well...it was interesting to host you both here today.” Helen offered in feigned sweetness. “Perhaps there might be a time in the distant future when you’ll both have more time and _flexibility_ to visit?”

That got a muffled chuckle from Ron and George.

“The pleasure was all ours.” Narcissa replied icily, before her gaze fell to her son. “Will you be returning home tonight?”

Draco turned to his wife...who stared at him coldly.

But didn’t reply.

“I don’t think so?”

Hermione’s amber eyes met the bright blue of Lady Malfoy and she replied haughtily, “Draco and I will be staying here for the night and he will return home tomorrow.”

“I see.” Was all Narcissa said, as she kissed her son’s cheek. “Perhaps it is time for us to return home ourselves. Minister Shacklebolt?”

Kingsley stood and Harry followed, as they escorted the Malfoy’s out of the immediate area and back to Malfoy Manor.

Once they were gone, the rest of the guests started to leave. George came over and kissed Hermione cheek and then bowed formally over her Mother’s hand, causing Helen to smile fondly at the boy. Bill and Fleur were the next to go, then Hannah and Neville. Luna left with Seamus and Dean. The Slytherin four came over and said their goodbyes to Draco, and Pansy whispered something in his ear that had him scowling and shaking his head.

Minerva, Molly and Arthur walked inside with Helen and Richard after saying their goodbyes, which left Hermione and Draco with Harry, Ron, Ginny and Susan Bones.

“So?” Draco drawled easily, “Am I going to get the cursory threats of death and dismemberment now?”

“Give us a little credit, Malfoy,” Harry scoffed, “Hermione has things well in hand. I don’t imagine you’ll have much wiggle room to do anything really foolish and if you by chance...somehow manage to hurt her...she’ll end you before Ron and I ever get the opportunity.”

Draco’s gaze caught his wife’s and her mouth twisted into an amused pout.

Potter might actually be on to something there.

“Not to worry, Potter,” the blonde bit back, “I have no intentions of harming my _wife_.”

Ron snorted in disgust while Harry grimaced.

“Go home you two,” Hermione said flatly. “Take the girls home and I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Harry sighed and nodded, while Ron just stood there and glared at the ferret.

“Fine,” Harry walked over and kissed Hermione’s cheek in parting. “Send your patronus if you need me for anything.”

“I will,” Hermione whispered. “Love you, Harry.”

“Love you too, Hermione.”

The two friends hugged and Ron came over to do the same, giving Malfoy one last look of utter loathing before they all disappeared from view.

Once they were alone, Draco turned to his new bride.

“So that’s where you get that wicked temper of yours?”

Hermione smirked. “You mean my Mother?”

Draco nodded.

“Your Mother was rude, Malfoy, and here I thought Pureblood manners would’ve recommended her better than that?”

Draco sighed and shrugged. “I told you, Hermione, I don’t have any control over how my parents choose to behave—but I do over myself.”

Turning away, Hermione refused to consider the possibility that her husband was capable of being a decent sort. He’d always been scathing, hateful and bigoted...up until their seventh year re-do.

She had allowed herself for a brief period of time to believe that the Draco Malfoy that she’d spent time with for those few months at Hogwarts before graduation, was the real person underneath his cool exterior.

Funny, sarcastic but highly intelligent.

It didn’t help that she’d secretly fancied his looks back in school—even when he was being an utter tool.

As she walked towards the inside of her home, she heard Malfoy’s steps following her closely. She couldn’t help but feel that despite the fact that they were now married...the person behind her was nothing more than a glorified stranger.

She smiled in relief when she saw her parents heading towards her from the end of the hallway that led to the large formal living room where the hearth had been set up with a floo permit via Kingsley.

It would remain in place for as long as she needed it.

“There you are,” Helen smiled warmly at her daughter before her hazel eyes briefly caught the grey one’s of the young man who was following behind Hermione. “How are you feeling? Any nausea?”

Hermione shook her head as she smiled lovingly at her mother.

“I’m fine, Mum. The food was excellent. I think if I stay away from trigger foods I’ll be okay.”

“You’ve been sick?” Malfoy’s voice was tinged with worry and Hermione looked over her shoulder to see the ferret’s brow furrow.

“It’s called morning sickness, Malfoy.” Hermione lamented with a sigh. “But in my case it’s been more like food triggered sickness. Certain smells seem to set me off.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize that was a thing.” He murmured thoughtfully, trying to ignore the expressions of the Granger’s, who were both staring at him.

“It can be,” Helen said placidly, “I had the same issue when I was pregnant with Hermione. But in my case it was the smells of coffee, pineapple, and Nutella.”

“Nutella?” Draco queried. “Is that a kind of pastry?”

“No, dear,” Helen shook her head, wondering how in the world someone didn’t know what Nutella was. “It’s a chocolate, hazelnut spread you can put on fruit, or toast. My little girl here is craving the stuff like it’s going out of style.”

Hermione blushed deeply as she bit her lip and shrugged.

“It’s good. Especially with bananas.”

Richard and Helen chuckled, while Malfoy just nodded...unsure what this Nutella was. But it sounded interesting.

“I have to admit, my exposure to certain things has been lacking.” He admitted sheepishly, running his hand through his blonde locks. “I noticed in school that Hermione didn’t eat a lot of sweets though.”

Both Granger’s were surprised by the admission, but Hermione was downright dumbfounded.

Why had he remembered that?

“Being teeth healers, we didn’t allow our pumpkin to have many sweets growing up. Christmas was the exception though, and she was rather fond of her Grandmother’s homemade toffee.” Richard explained, and Hermione hummed happily at the thought of her Nana’s toffee and fudge.

“Nana made the best treats.”

“That she did.” Helen smiled warmly, cupping her daughter’s cheek before placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “We will be leaving back to London. Harry will be taking us back home through the floo.”

Stiffening slightly, Hermione nodded...realizing in a few short moments she’d be left here in her family home alone...with her new husband.

It was a sobering thought.

Her father however, came over and enveloped her into a fierce hug. “We love you, pumpkin. Please stop by home sometime tomorrow before you head back to Hogwarts.”

“I will.” She promised with a wan smile.

Malfoy surprised her though, when he held out his hand for her father.

“Thank you, Sir, for welcoming myself, my friends and family into your lovely home. I do apologize for my parents. I had hoped that perhaps they might be a bit more generous...”

Malfoy’s voice fell away awkwardly, and Richard took pity on the boy and clasped his hand around the young lad’s in a firm handshake.

“You can thank my wife, Draco.” Richard drawled evenly, his expression impassive.

“Of course,” Draco nodded. “Thank you, Ma’am for today. It was lovely and if I might be so bold...it was very much how I’d always hoped my wedding would be in spite of my Mother’s expectations.”

Hermione’s expression blanched while her mother just eyed Malfoy knowingly.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, Draco.” Helen smiled gently. “I know this situation has been difficult on everyone, but if I might take a moment?”

Draco nodded, his body language screaming of his own discomfort and Hermione had to wonder if it was due to the fact that he was conversing with her Muggle parents, or if he was afraid that her mother was going to chastise him soundly for his parent’s slights from earlier.

“You both have had a contentious past and both of you have made less than stellar decisions at times,” Hermione blushed and Draco bit his lip as his cheeks flushed in embarrassment of the truth of Helen Granger’s words. Draco figured whatever the woman had to say, he probably deserved much worse in the way of retribution. “Our Daughter will always be our first priority. I don’t know if you’re aware, but she modified our memories prior to leaving with Harry before they disappeared. When your war ended, she found us and restored our memories. We’ve seen her scars and we know what transpired in your family home. The fact remains that you would have never been our choice for her life partner had we been given one.”

Draco’s face fell as he nodded solemnly, and he could feel Hermione’s eyes scope-locked on him but he refused to look at her.

He didn’t need to see her utter loathing and disgust for him.

It couldn’t be any worse than what he felt everyday when he looked into the mirror.

“However,” Helen forged on, “you both are going to have two innocent children join your little family nucleus soon. These children will rely on you both to put their needs first, make good decisions and treat each other with respect. From what I understand young man, you’ve been given a second chance at life to make things right for the wrongs you’ve perpetrated. Having met your parents, I only ask you remember this? Would you allow your children to make the choices your parents allowed and encouraged you to make? Would you seek to see them suffer by another’s hand if it meant saving yourself in the process?”

Draco swallowed heavily as he muddled over Helen Granger’s words.

He understood exactly what she was asking of him and he was amazed that Hermione had gone to such lengths to protect her parents from harm.

He was even more amazed that they’d forgiven her and supported her even after everything.

Draco didn’t think his own parents would’ve ever made such concessions for him.

“I just want my children to be happy and safe.” He said after another moment. “And to know that no matter what—they are more important to me than anything in the world.”

Draco noticed Helen and Richard sharing an inscrutable look, while Hermione turned her head away and bit her lip.

Somehow, Draco had to wonder if he’d said the wrong thing but all Mrs. Granger replied was, “I suppose that’s a _start_.”

Just then the sound of the floo roared and Harry stepped into the corridor a moment later, taking stock of the scene.

“Are you ready Helen, Richard?”

“Of course, Harry.” Helen said warmly before turning back to her daughter. “We will see you for dinner tomorrow, young lady.”

“Yes, Mum.”

“We love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too, Mum...Dad. Thank you again for everything today. It was truly amazing.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Helen kissed her daughter’s cheeks one last time before she nodded at her son-in-law and Richard just followed suit, as he told their daughter there was some Nutella and bananas in the kitchen for her.

Hermione’s giggle was cute, Draco thought, as she smiled adoringly at both her parents and waved to them as they rounded the corner and out of sight.

Her sigh was to be expected.

“Your parents are amazing people.” Draco said sincerely, earning a stunned look of disbelief before his wife’s face softened and she replied, “They are.”

They stood facing each other awkwardly for a few moments before Hermione sighed again and waved her hand towards the staircase.

“We should get this over with.”

Draco’s expression fell, before he huffed in irritation.

“Am I really so repulsive to you that you can’t stand the thought of being intimate with me?” He muttered angrily. “You didn’t seem to think I was such a troll when you were screaming my name back in our dorm room at Hogwarts that last night.”

“That was before you bailed on me, Malfoy...so excuse me if I’d rather not assume anything where you’re concerned. Besides...after tonight, you’ll be returning to your home and I’ll be going back to mine.”

“And what about the Healer’s appointments?”

“What about them?” Hermione demanded. “You’re still on house arrest. You might’ve gotten a reprieve for today because of this ridiculous law...but that doesn’t mean you’re entitled to anything else.”

Draco just shook his head, before he moved closer into her space and stared her down.

“You really mean that, don’t you? Do you hate me that much?”

Malfoy’s voice cracked on the last word, and Hermione had to wonder if this was just some elaborate ploy to play on her sympathies. The person she was prior to the ‘ _mistake_ ’ would’ve been a bit more understanding, kinder and even forgiving.

But that person didn’t belong in this relationship.

Malfoy had done more than hurt her.

He’d fundamentally destroyed her heart and stomped on it along with her self esteem.

“I don’t hate you, Malfoy.” Draco scoffed, but Hermione just shook her head. “I don’t. The truth remains is that I don’t trust you. Fact one...if it wasn’t for this Marriage Law...you’d have married Astoria Greengrass, correct?”

Draco pursed his lips but he didn’t reply.

Or _deny_.

So Hermione took that as a confirmation.

“Fact two...you’d have never gone against your parents despite our dalliance.”

Draco just continued to stare at her, but didn’t refute her words.

“Fact three...these children would’ve been raised bastards if it hadn’t been for this Marriage Law and us being forced together.”

“That’s not true!”

She just laughed sardonically in return. “So? That’s the _real_ reason, isn’t it?”

“What do you _mean_?”

Hermione just glared at the blonde ferret, her heart shattering with every word.

“It was never about _me_ , or about feeling guilty or remorse over the fact that you used me and then threw me to the side like I was _garbage_...it was the fact that I’m pregnant with Malfoy spawn. So tell me, _husband_?” She bit out the last word like venom. “Does that finally make me more worthy in your eyes instead of a _disposable piece of filth?”_

Draco just stood there and stared aghast at his wife...

_His wife..._

Who’s entire body language was screaming hurt, anger and distrust—and he now understood what Helen Granger meant by her earlier question.

Reaching out for Hermione, he pleaded by calling her name softly but she just shook her head and turned to go upstairs.

Her parting shot caused his stomach to plummet.

“I have a blindfold, if it will make it easier for you. Or perhaps I should be the one to wear it?”

He quickly followed her up to the room they’d be sharing, desperate to try and fix what he’d broken.

“Hermione...don’t be _ridiculous_!”

She just stormed into their room, reaching back to unzip her dress and Draco stood there stunned as the material fell to the floor in a heap of material.

Underneath she had on blush stockings, garters and a strapless demi bra.

She looked sinfully innocent and delectable at the same time.

As she stood before him with her hands on her hips, staring him down defiantly—Draco had to wonder if they would ever be able to get past all the hurt he’d caused her.

If she would ever be able to forgive him for being such a thoughtless prat.

Would he ever be able to forgive himself?

Moving towards her, and not taking his eyes off her’s for a second...Draco waited until he was standing directly in front of his wife before he said in his most sincere voice...

“You’re beautiful.”

He saw Hermione start to roll her eyes at him, so he cupped her face and made her keep eye contact with him so she could witness and see for herself the truth of what he was trying to convey.

“You are,” he pleaded. “And I don’t deserve you nor our children despite what you might think of me, or my reasons for leaving that night, but it wasn’t just about the betrothal. It was about protecting your reputation too.”

He watched the confusion in Hermione’s gaze as she stared up at him, so he quickly soldiered on...

“The Draco Malfoy you see before you understands he fucked up. He knows that there’s nothing he can say or do to get you to believe that he’s actually grateful to have had this day with you. That today was one of the best days of his life. He doesn’t expect you to forget all the ways he’s hurt you, nor does he expect you’ll forgive him anytime soon. All he hopes, is that you’ll give him one final chance to make this right. To prove to you that he can be better and do better.”

Hermione stared into smoky grey eyes that were filled with raw intensity and she bit her lip hard.

“What if I can’t?”

She watched Malfoy’s whole body deflate and she shook her head.

“What if I can’t allow myself to trust you again? What if I can’t take the chance if I let you in again, that you’re not going to make me regret it? That you’re not going to choose your parent’s, your heritage... _your blood._..over me? You may think you can do it? But I don’t believe you have it in you, Malfoy.”

“That’s _harsh_ , wife.”

“Yes.” She admitted sadly. “It is. I am what you’ve _made_ me. You can thank yourself for the walls I’ve had to build in order to keep what’s left of my self esteem in tact. You’ve tried for years to break me. Your aunt tried too...” Draco flinched at that. “But in the end? I only have myself to blame for letting you in—and you made me regret it.”

“Do you regret our children too?” He whispered pained and sucked in a breath when he saw tears well up in Hermione’s eyes.

“No, I could _never_ regret them. I just wish I could’ve gotten pregnant with someone who truly wanted me for me. Respected and wanted me. Who didn’t see me as disposable.”

“Damn it, Hermione!”

Draco growled as he hovered close to her and continued to wipe the silent tears that had fallen like tiny diamonds down her perfect cheeks. He soothed them with his thumbs as he took in every freckle on the bridge of his wife’s nose...her intoxicating sweet perfume and how utterly captivating she looked trembling and vulnerable...

_And his heart cracked._

“You’re **not** disposable, love.” He begged tenderly. “And I’m _truly sorry_ if I made you feel that you are. Please, Hermione—give me one last chance and I promise I won’t let you down again.”

Draco watched with bated breath for several minutes at the war he could see raging behind Hermione’s eyes as she stared over his shoulder, unseeing.

When her vision cleared and locked back on his...he could see that she didn’t believe him.

And he couldn’t fault her for it in the least, even as his heart broke a bit.

So he did the only thing he could think of and covered her lips with his.

Her response wasn’t immediate, but once he’d moved his right hand down her slender frame and cupped her arse...pulling her flush with his body...Draco finally felt Hermione give in.

So he decided for now, he would take what she allowed and try to prove to her that she could trust his word again.

He just hoped it wasn’t too little...too late.


	9. Heart of a Coward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco’s dilemma is consuming his thoughts.

Sitting in his family library, and sipping on his second glass of firewhiskey in the past hour—Draco stared morosely at the embers of the fire and frowned deeply.

It had now been over two weeks since his marriage ceremony to Hermione. Two weeks since he’d left her family’s home the morning after their wedding night—which had been far too short for his liking.

He’d spent the entirety of their time together showing his delectable wife with his hands, mouth and cock just how much he’d desired her. Draco had left no part of Hermione’s body untouched that night and for a fragile moment, when the first rays of light had shone through the window of their bedroom—and he’d felt her body cradled perfectly against his—he’d hoped that perhaps they’d turned a corner towards a new chapter that night.

And then Hermione had woken up, lifted her head and looked him dead in eye...and immediately left their bed without a word.

He’d watched warily as she’d walked into the loo, her clothes clutched tightly in hand and about twenty minutes later, she’d emerged from her solitude, dressed and ready to leave.

Draco at that point had just stared at her, his stomach clenching with the hard pain of regret and remorse. He didn’t know what to say or do because try as he might—there was little chance his stubborn wife was going to listen to anything he had to say.

So he’d gotten dressed too, and headed downstairs where he’d found Hermione in the kitchen making breakfast.

He’d cleared his throat softly, hoping she’d acknowledge him...and she did...

 _Eventually_.

Draco had sat down across from her and watched her plate eggs, toast and fruit for them both. The mysterious jar of Nutella was placed in between them and he’d politely asked if he might try it. His wife had nodded and watched him silently as he plated a small spoonful and then mimicked her style of eating it with the banana.

His moan of appreciation had engendered a small smile before Hermione’s mask fell over her face once again—and it was a stark reminder to how horribly he’d behaved towards her back in school.

Cold, aloof and emotionless.

When breakfast was done, his wife had taken his plate and cleaned up their meal. He’d offered to help, but her subtle shake of the head had let him know she didn’t want his participation at all.

Then Hermione had led him to the floo, and as she was about to ask him to leave—Draco had inquired delicately if he could write to her at Hogwarts or if it might be possible to see her at some point soon.

Her amber eyes had considered him impassively and then she’d sighed and said emotionlessly, “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“Why?”

He’d asked, clearly confused as to how his wife expected them to not have any communication nor contact with each other.

Her answer of “ _We have nothing to say to each other_ ” brought him up short as he purposefully stared down at her stomach and lifted a condescending eyebrow, his expression clearly disbelieving.

So he’d asked when her next Healer visit was, and the response had been a curt...

“Two weeks.”

It was hard for Draco to admit that he’d fucked this up so badly. He had never intended to act upon his attraction to Granger back at Hogwarts. He’d desperately tried all their last year to keep as much distance as he could...but once the war was over and after everything that had occurred...he just couldn’t lie to himself anymore.

He’d wanted her—and regardless of circumstances being what they were...when the opportunity had presented itself...he’d taken full advantage of it.

And he’d only regretted it inasmuch as he’d been betrothed to another and couldn’t give Granger the kind of relationship she’d deserved.

_Fuck!_

He’d been fairly certain at the time, Hermione hadn’t wanted him like that anyway.

But instead of being honest about his circumstances...he’d done the cowardly thing and bolted and now he was paying the price for that mistake too. It wasn’t too difficult for him to reconcile that he had no one to blame but himself for his current predicament.

He’d been a coward for much of his life.

His mother found him not too long after he’d finished his second drink and was working on his third. When Narcissa walked into the library, her icy blue eyes immediately locked onto her only child’s form as she watched Draco momentarily, and her heart sank at the obvious signs of distress.

The unusual scruff on his face. His unkempt hair. Wrinkled clothes and bloodshot eyes.

Narcissa had spent the past two weeks herself, pondering over the unfortunate circumstances that led to her only son marrying a mudblood.

And now that mudblood was pregnant with the next Malfoy heirs.

Shaking her head, Narcissa moved further into the library and eventually sat down across from her dragon, who just stared into the dying fire with a defeated expression on his face.

“Draco,” Narcissa spoke softly, trying to get her son’s attention, “you need to pull yourself together.”

Her son took another swallow of his drink, but his gaze never left the crackling embers as he said, “ _Why_ are you here, Mother?”

Sighing in exasperation, Narcissa had to wonder just what her dragon had been thinking—sullying himself in such a way with Miss Granger. She couldn’t bear to even consider calling the witch anything else. Her status as a War Heroine nonwithstanding, it didn’t change the fact that the girl was beneath her son—and therefore not fit to be considered a Malfoy.

“I’m worried about you, darling,” Narcissa admonished, “you haven’t been down to eat with your Father nor I, in several days and Tibby told us you haven’t slept much either.”

Draco threw back the last of his firewhiskey, setting the glass down on the table with a resounding clunk.

“And?”

“Draco, this is intolerable. I understand that there was little concession to be made in regards to your marriage with Miss Granger...but honestly? This is unlike you to wallow over such a...”

“Such a what, Mother?” Draco’s grey eyes glinted at that moment and locked onto his Mother’s...who was considering him like she did to one of her House Elves. “Don’t think I don’t know what you and Father have been discussing amongst yourselves about my wife.”

Draco’s gaze narrowed, as his Mother flinched subtly at the reminder of Hermione’s status as his life partner.

“I know you both don’t approve of her and probably never will. Even after everything that has happened and our family’s fall from grace...you and Father still hold onto your beliefs of blood purity. My wife was tortured in this home, by your own sister—and somehow, I’m going to have to find a way to explain to my children why their own Mother will likely never set foot in this home nor allow them to do the same.”

Narcissa scoffed at the ridiculousness of such a statement.

“I sincerely doubt that Miss Granger...”

Draco’s harsh growl had his Mother flinching back.

“She’s _not_ a Granger anymore!” Draco roared, as he stood up and went over to pour himself another drink, ignoring his Mother’s disapproving look. “She’s a Malfoy. She’s my _wife_ , and the mother of my children! Regardless of the fact that she was already pregnant...the Ministry would have paired us together, Mother! You and Father seem to be under some delusion that the Malfoy name still means a damn thing anymore! _News Flash, Mum!_ We are hated by both sides! Those who were on the winning side see us as nothing more than failed ex-Death Eaters, and those on our side view us as blood traitors after Father’s deal with the Ministry to turn on his former associates. So tell me, Mum? Where does that leave us? Me? My wife? My _children_?”

Narcissa pursed her lips tightly as she watched her dragon drown his sorrows in alcohol, and immediately knew that nothing she could possibly say would make this situation any better.

“Both you and Father blame me for something that would’ve happened, even if I hadn’t gotten Hermione pregnant. The fact that she even agreed to marry me, you should be thankful for. I found out whom the Ministry would’ve paired me with had she followed through on her threat and balked at our union. Any guesses?”

Based on his Mother’s unhappy scowl, Draco was fairly certain she knew just whom he’d have been paired with.

The witch, Verity Morgan—was a Hufflepuff and a Muggle-born who had graduated from Hogwarts two years ahead of him. During the war, she had migrated with her parents to live with family abroad and had returned to Britain just prior to the mandated Marriage Law taking effect. She wasn’t terribly bright from what Draco could remember and had barely passed her NEWTS. She wasn’t much to look at either and currently, worked as a clerk at Weasley Wizarding Wheezes.

Hermione hadn’t been lying when she’d indicated that most of the younger witches had been spoken for. The Ministry was doing its level best to wipe out all Pureblood lines with this new generation of children being born. There would be no more Sacred 28, for all intents and purposes.

Since the Marriage Law affected all eligible witches and wizards from post-Hogwarts graduation to age 30, it meant that a broad range of Pureblood families would be forced into mixed blood marriages. Even some of his former Quidditch mates like Marcus Flint, Adrian Pucey, Graham Montague, Terrence Higgs and Miles Bletchley had been matched with half-bloods and Muggle-borns.

But none of those witches was the Golden Girl. One third of the Golden Trio—War Heroine and Brightest Witch of the Age. The Quibbler had broken the story of the pairings of both Hermione and the Weasel, and the Daily Prophet had picked up on the story and had run their own scathing article. Skeeter, who was no fan of his wife—had been downright blistering in her reporting and Draco had wondered if his Mother had anything to do with that.

It was no secret that Rita Skeeter and his Mother had gone to school together.

Thankfully though...the news of Hermione’s pregnancy had remained a secret for now.

There was no telling what kind of backlash would be forthcoming once that piece of news got out.

“I see you have no comment.” Draco drawled as he sat back down with his fourth glass of liquid comfort.

“Were you expecting me to confirm your rantings, my Dragon?”

Taking a fortifying sip, Draco just stared at his Mother over the rim of his crystal tumbler.

“I take it you haven’t heard from Miss Granger?”

Her son’s scoff as he shook his head let Narcissa know that he wasn’t happy with her designation for his Ministry chosen wife.

“I’m sure you’re here to offer me comfort over my wife’s lack of conveyance?”

“I’m unsure how to answer that, Draco.” Narcissa’s voice was flat. “Should I be _happy_ that my only son is sitting here staring into the fire while he drowns his sorrows away in a bottle of Ogden’s finest? Do you think it makes me happy to know that for some reason I simply cannot fathom, you chose to sow your wild oats with a witch who not only despises our family...”

“With good reason...” Draco interrupted, ignoring his Mother’s scathing look.

“I find myself wondering if your blatant disregard for your heritage and betrothal was some last ditched effort at rebellion?”

“Not at all, Mother.” Draco drawled, picking at some invisible lint on the thigh of his trousers, before taking a final sip of his Ogden’s, “If we’re going for brutal honesty here, then I should tell you that my so-called lapse in judgment as you might wish to believe—was me for the first time in my pathetic life making a choice for myself! Not based upon fear, nor desperation...” he paused, before locking eyes with his Mother and giving her a cruel smirk, “nor any of the other things a coward might do because he is afraid to disappoint his parent’s plans for his future...”

“Draco...”

His mother’s voice held a warning edge to it, but he was beyond caring at this point.

“I took the Dark Mark to save you. To save Father, the repercussions of his actions when everything went balls up when he was carted off to Azkaban.”

“That’s enough...”

“ ** _No!”_** Draco shouted, and felt a momentary sliver of guilt when he saw his mother flinch back from him violently. “No, Mum...I won’t. I _can’t_! Not anymore.”

He stood up, leaving the tumbler for the House Elves as he sauntered over to his Mum and kneeled in front of her. His face was open and pained, and he could see for a split second her own expression fall at his obvious distress.

“I did all I could to save you, Mum. You were the only good thing I had in my life and I would’ve done anything...short of killing someone, to save you from the Dark Lord. I don’t expect you to like my wife. I don’t expect you to change...” he paused again and grabbed his Mother’s hands which she allowed, and then sighed when her hand ran through his hair gently. “I just want to be _happy_. I just want to find some peace and I want to try and be a good husband and a good father. I’ve done all I know how to do, to have been a good son for you and Father. I may have been a disappointment, but it wasn’t for lack of effort on my part to make you both proud. I can’t change the past and frankly, I wouldn’t if it meant having both you and Father alive and free—but for just _once_ —can’t you just try and set aside the Black part of your upbringing and just be my Mum? Is that so much to ask of you?”

Narcissa stared down into pleading grey eyes that were the only thing that her dragon had inherited from the Black side of the family.

At least physically.

She knew what her son was asking...no pleading...with her to do.

The problem was, she didn’t know how to remove that part of her psyche that fundamentally couldn’t disavow the truth of her heritage.

Of being a Pureblood.

Draco watched his Mother wrestle with herself and after a few moments he sighed and stood up, giving his mother a curt nod.

“I suppose it was too much to ask.”

Without another word, Draco walked out of the library and headed back to his rooms. Knowing deep in his heart that sometime in his not too distant future, he’d be faced with an impossible choice.

And it was one he wasn’t sure how to make.


	10. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione’s perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always to those who take the time, initiative and kindness to add a little sunlight to my day! You’re reviews are golden and the kudos are appreciated!

For the tenth time in the last month, Hermione had received a letter from her husband. She was currently working on her project for her Arithmancy Mastery, looking into the Chaldean methodology and combining it with a form of multi-linear regression to determine independent predictors based on a single response variable. The hope with her research, was to come up with a predictive way to measure magical potential and subsequent depletion due to prolonged exposure of Dark Magics—like the cruciatis curse.

Her work had been tiring her as of late, but the truth was she hadn’t been sleeping well. Now that she was beginning to show in earnest, she’d take to glamouring her stomach whilst in the castle so she could keep the truth of her pregnancy secret a little while longer.

As she stared at the letters, Hermione had to admit that her husband was relentless when he wanted something but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what that something really was. She knew he must be feeling frustrated with her lack of correspondence, and she did feel bad for not writing to him—at least sharing the news of her last Healer appointment—but she couldn’t bring herself to put words down on parchment.

After the wedding night they’d shared—Hermione had a hard time trying to stay focused on all the reasons Malfoy didn’t deserve any consideration from her at all.

His current letter sat on her bed, mocking her with its perfect handwriting addressed to ‘Hermione Granger-Malfoy’ which had shocked her at first when she’d seen the first letter he’d written to her addressed thusly. She was fairly certain that Malfoy would’ve had no intentions of truly acknowledging her as his wife, despite what he’d said on their wedding night.

 _Their wedding night..._.

She’d tried very, very hard to push that night and everything that had transpired between the two of them, to the very far reaches of her mind. Occlumency had helped somewhat—but she wasn’t a master by any means and Malfoy had been utterly relentless that night.

He’d been a wizard with an agenda, and Hermione had left that next morning wondering just what he’d hoped to prove to her after everything that had transpired between them. Yes, they were married—but that didn’t mean they had to actually co-habitate or even engage with each other—yet he’d written at least twice per week like clockwork. He always inquired after her health, if she was eating properly and getting enough rest. Was she sick? Taking her prenatal potions? How were her studies coming along? What was she working on for her Mastery?

Malfoy hadn’t taken Arithmancy as a NEWT level class...he’d taken Defense, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology, Astronomy and History of Magic. She had taken Defense, Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Arithmancy, Runes and Herbology. The only classes they’d had together were Potions, Charms and Transfiguration, so it had made it next to impossible for her to ignore him for the entirety of their final year but with being Head Students together?

There was no getting around the fact that she’d had to engage with Malfoy on some level.

It had started out simply enough. She had been looking for a particular potions tome in the library and he had checked out the only available copy. Finding him studying in his usual spot in the back of the library near the restricted section—Hermione had approached him and had politely inquired if she could borrow the book if he wasn’t going to need it immediately. He’d handed it over without protest, only asking politely in return, if she could bring it that evening after dinner to him in their shared dorm room.

Hermione had been surprised by his quick acquiescence, but had smiled and readily agreed. Even going to far as thanking him.

Draco had just nodded and went back to his writing, but later that same evening when she’d returned the potions book, he’d inquired if she had needed any other research material and after her initial shock, she’d replied ‘ _no, but thank you for asking.’_

From there, they’d patrolled together on rounds a week later and instead of ignoring her...Malfoy had asked her how her classes were coming along. She’d replied something innocuous and that had been that.

That had, however, opened the door and for the next few months their interactions started to happen with greater and greater frequency.

Then after Easter hols, on a Hogsmeade weekend, she’d accidentally found Malfoy being accosted by a few of their classmates—three Gryffindors and two Ravenclaws. They were sixth and seventh years and one was even a prefect from her own House.

They’d been saying truly awful, hateful things...but Hermione couldn’t help and note, that some were rather spot on too.

Malfoy, to his credit, didn’t engage—he’d just taken the verbal abuse stoically.

But then one of the students had pulled a wand when it seemed he couldn’t provoke Malfoy into reacting...and that had been immediately followed by two others.

Thinking back on McGonagall’s words at the beginning of the year...Hermione decided she needed to intervene, so she loudly cleared her throat...her wand in hand as the group en masse turned around and stared at her in shock.

The five wizards seemed quite surprised to see her standing there, but Malfoy’s expression shuttered and his grey eyes had looked lifeless as he considered her for a moment.

She had demanded to know what was going on, and despite knowing herself (as she’d heard a good portion of it)...the five attackers made no secret of their hatred nor scathing words as they admitted to their perfidy.

Once they were done, Hermione had stood there staring irately at all of them and scoffed, before saying harshly, “Do you think the War left anyone unscathed?”

Their looks of confusion had only served to frustrate her more.

“What you choose to believe in private is your choice, but you are all still students here at this school. Therefore, bullying and ganging up on a single fellow student is entirely unacceptable—regardless of rationale. Leave now, and if I see any of you harassing any student in the future in such a manner? I will dock points and mete out detention. I didn’t fight in a War and nearly die, to have to deal with this kind of immature rubbish.”

The five wizards had expressions that ranged from shock, dismay and anger...but Malfoy had just stood there...his expression giving absolutely nothing away.

The five wizards left immediatey—thankfully, and when they were gone...Hermione sighed and went to leave as well when Malfoy’s voice stopped her cold.

“You didn’t have to do that, Granger.”

She glanced over her shoulder and replied evenly, “You’re right Malfoy, I _didn’t_.”

He didn’t respond and she didn’t elaborate but from that moment on, things had irrevocably changed between them both, and Hermione had seen a new side of Draco Malfoy she hadn’t known existed.

But she’d be lying if she didn’t admit that the Draco Malfoy she’d been allowed to see for those few months had been one she’d been simply enamoured with.

And her heart had responded to him, opened up and had let him in completely.

However briefly.

As she stared at the pile of letters he’d written this past month with his latest missive mocking her from the top of the pile...Hermione was at a loss.

This was her husband for all intents and purposes. The wizard she was bonded to and according to her Mum—the man she would somehow need to find common ground with.

It wasn’t a matter of being sexually attracted to Malfoy. She’d always been more aware of him than she should’ve been. He was simply gorgeous—with his platinum blonde hair and startling grey eyes. His physique was slender but muscled to perfection and his other more manly attributes were more than adequate.

Her issue was that fundamentally, Draco Malfoy was a coward when it came to his parents and their beliefs. He couldn’t stand up for himself and by extension...Hermione didn’t have any faith he’d make her or their children his first priority. She knew that he’d made the choices he had during the war, to save his Mum in particular...but Narcissa Malfoy would never accept her nor these babies she was carrying.

And Hermione didn’t know where that left her.

Moving over to her bed and sitting down cross-legged on her comforter, she took her most recent letter from her husband and decided to rip the bandaid off.

Opening it, she sighed when she saw the usual greeting.

**_Hello Wife..._ **

**_It has been a month since I’ve heard from you and I can’t help but wonder if you are ever going to respond to any of my letters._ **

**_I suppose you feel I deserve every bit of censure for all the ways in which I’ve hurt you over these many years. I don’t know how many times I can apologize without it sounding trite and contrived. However, I do know that your Healer appointment has passed._ **

**_Are you ever going to let me know how my children are faring?_ **

**_How you are doing?_ **

**_I know our marriage isn’t what you wanted. Frankly, I didn’t expect this for my life either as I’ve mentioned previously. But wife...this is what we now have and somehow, we need to figure out what our future is going to look like together._ **

**_Please do me the courtesy of at least letting me know you’re alive and well. My only source of news is the Prophet and you’ve done remarkably well at becoming a recluse this past month since the notification of our marriage went public. I’m sure you’ve seen the articles too._ **

**_Despite what you might wish to believe, Hermione—I do want us to have a happy marriage and I do want our children to see us working together for their benefit. I do think we could have something lasting if you could just give me another chance to make this right._ **

**_I hope you have enough Nutella to assuage any current cravings and I must admit...it is rather brilliant. Makes me wonder what else I’ve missed out on._ **

_**Maybe you might be willing to educate me at some point?** _

_**I look forward to hearing from you.** _

_**Your husband,  
Draco** _

Staring down morosely at the letter, Hermione felt her emotions bubbling up to the surface but she viciously tampered them down.

Crying at this post wouldn’t serve her purposes, even if her hormones were driving her spare.

Setting the letter down on the stack, Hermione plopped back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling as she contemplated Malfoy’s words.

It was true that the Prophet and Skeeter had been scathing in their suppositions about her marriage to Draco. Thankfully, being locked away at Hogwarts and glamouring her stomach which was now quite noticeable...had kept her fairly isolated from the rabid gossipmongers of the Wizarding World.

No one really expected her to stay at Malfoy Manor, and Skeeter could write whatever she wanted but most people knew of her capture and torture there.

Perhaps she needed to seriously think about removing Skeeter from the equation permanently.

Grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill, Hermione stared down at the blank sheet and bit her lip in consternation.

The truth was? She didn’t know what to write.

What do you say in causal correspondence to the wizard you’re married to, who bullied you for six years—watched you being tortured on his drawing room floor and then shags you into oblivion only to ditch you the next morning?

Fuck!

This was just barmy!

Sighing heavily, Hermione decided she needed to get this over with, so she could stop obsessing over it.

_**Malfoy,** _

_**Yes, I’m alive.** _

_**I’ve gotten your letters, and the truth is I don’t know what to say to you.** _

_**There was a time I thought differently, but frankly? It’s going to take me some time to come to terms with all this. I know logically that these children I’m carrying are half yours, but it doesn’t make it any easier when I think about our past interactions and all that’s happened between us. We’re not friends (and I’m not sure we ever were that last year), and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it’s harder than I thought to trust in your intentions.** _

_**I don’t know how to change it. Sometimes I wish I had never slept with you, but then I wouldn’t have these babies and I can’t regret that. So, how can we build on something when our foundation has been filled with such negativity?** _

_**I feel the only reason you even agreed to this marriage was the fact that I am pregnant, and if I’m honest? Had it not been for the Ministry Law, in all likelihood I never would’ve told you. Whilst I understand the fact that you were betrothed, I can’t help but feel like you used my lack of Pureblood magical knowledge against me (it wouldn’t be the first time, right?). I likely would’ve found out through the Prophet or some other public means about your arrangement with Astoria Greengrass and that makes me feel cheap.** _

_**Like you thought of me as nothing more than some kind of whore.** _

_**Tell me, how would I been able to explain that to our children?** _

_**I do feel strongly that children need both their parents it’s true. But how in Merlin’s name are we ever going to show our children the best of us when we haven’t shown each other that same courtesy, except for a brief window of time that wasn’t even real?** _

_**The babies are fine. Growing well. I haven’t found out the sexes yet as I thought I’d like it to be a surprise.** _

_**My studies are fine.** _

_**I’m fine.** _

_**Hermione** _

Rolling up the parchment, she put it into her beaded bag and headed immediately for the Owlry before she lost her nerve.

As she walked along the hallways of the castle that had been her home for seven years, it was hard for Hermione to admit that part of the reason she’d chosen to come back here and do her Mastery in Arithmancy had been because she wasn’t ready to deal with the real world yet. The offers from the Ministry had been aplenty and Kingsley had been persistent in wanting her to come and work in any department of her choosing—but after that morning when she’d awoken to find Malfoy gone and her mistake glaring at their from the empty side of her bed where he’d been the night before—the choice had been starkly clear.

She’d cracked and broke that morning. Not even her torture by Bellatrix’s wand had done that and fundamentally, everything she had fought and had paid dearly for—hadn’t broken her because of the knowledge that it was life and death. Do or die.

And it hadn’t been a conscious choice to make.

Not really.

Not if she’d wanted her parents and herself to survive.

Perhaps that was why things between she and Ron hadn’t worked out in the end. He was ready to live after the war ended and she was still in survival mode.

Even finding her parents hadn’t changed that perspective immediately.

_Constant Vigilance._

No, it hadn’t been until the night she’d spent with Malfoy that Hermione had truly begun to hope that the future and her sacrifices...might’ve actually made a real lasting difference.

A change for the better.

And then he was gone and that hope...that feeling that the world might actually be better because of all the sacrifices she’d made...had crashed and burned along with her fragile heart.

And she, for the first time since she’d known Malfoy...had truly hated him in that moment.

It was ironic, that of all the things he’d said, watched and done that it was her own moment of weakness and thinking he could’ve really changed for the better by allowing him in—that had been the one thing that had broken her.

Walking up the final steps into the owlry, Hermione had to wonder if Malfoy would ever be capable of true change. Of truly understanding just how poisonous not only his own beliefs were, but allowing his parents to continue to mold his sense of self-worth.

That was a lose-lose proposition if there ever was one, Hermione thought sadly.

Calling down a school owl and attaching the parchment to its leg, she watched with detachment as it took flight heading towards Wiltshire and her husband. Sitting on the edge of the parapet and staring out into the distance as the owl disappeared from view, Hermione rubbed her swollen belly absently and sighed softly. These two innocent lives would need her to be strong and capable. They’d need her love and protection from the hateful bigots of the magical world. There would be those who would hate them for being born with Malfoy blood. Children of a disgraced ex-Death Eater and grandchildren of one of Voldemort’s most faithful followers up until the end. There would be those on the other side who would hate them for being half-bloods. Seeing their existence as a stain on a once noble Pureblood House.

Hermione wondered who they would end up looking more like. Would her children have bushy-hair? Her eyes? Or would the magical Malfoy genetics follow them like a noose around their necks, much like their last name would. Had she made a mistake thinking that it was more important for her babies to have their father in their lives, versus making a clean break and not shackling them to an uncertain heritage?

And could she finally be really honest with herself as to why she’d blackmailed Malfoy in the first place?

That her desire to make Malfoy suffer was part of it—but the other part was actually more shameful to admit to.

Could she really break him in the way he’d broken her?

Would she ever have that kind of power over him?

Would he ever fall in love with her the way she had with him those last few months during their eighth year?

Shaking her head, Hermione stood up and headed back into the castle with a determined scowl on her face.

There was no way she’d ever allow herself to make the same mistake _twice_.

She was smarter than that.


	11. Hate and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Draco wallows in depression, Hermione is dispatched to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next two chapters will be flashbacks of eighth year.

The letter from his wife sat crumpled in Draco’s hand as he laid passed out on his bed. He’d taken to reading through the missive for the nth time in as many weeks and had subsequently drunken himself into a veritable stupor of loathing and self-recrimination.

He’d stopped writing his wife _four_ weeks ago.

Stopped sleeping entirely without the aid of alcohol _three_ weeks ago.

Stopped going out of his room and bathing _two_ weeks ago.

Stopped eating entirely almost a _week_ ago.

Draco had probably lost a stone, but he didn’t care. His whole life had been ruined by his own hand and there was no way of fixing it as it stood now. He couldn’t leave his wretched home...his parents barely spoke to him these days especially after his last conversation with them both a couple weeks ago—where his Father had once again, reminded him what a disappointment he was.

And his mother had just sat there and for the first time in his life, had not said anything in his defense.

So he’d vanished to his suite of rooms.

Then he told his nanny elf, Mipsy...that he didn’t want to be disturbed when he realized his parents weren’t going to check on him.

And that had been _five_ days ago.

Fortunately, the stash of booze he had in his room had lasted him until he’d passed out from alcohol consumption...muttering Hermione’s name in his addled state and too far gone to notice how far he’d fallen into utter despair.

Or notice his House Elf, wringing her hands in panic when he wouldn’t wake up at her prodding.

The only thing Mipsy could make out was the new Mistress’s name and the little elf had to wonder if she could help her Master in some way.

“Master,” Mipsy whispered near the young Master’s ear, “cans I do anything for you?”

A few seconds of mumbling and then nothing, causing Mipsy to wring her hands further into her tea towel.

“Master, should I gets the news Mistress to helps you?”

The murmuring persisted for a few seconds and then her Master mumbled, “ _y’s, m’ w’fe...”_

So Mipsy took that as permission, and ‘ _popped_ ’ away to find the new Mistress...hoping that she could help Master get better soon.

It hadn’t taken her too long to find the new Mistress in her home with her parents. When Mipsy appeared with a small pop, Hermione was just sitting down at the dinner table with her mother and father...as it was a Friday evening and she didn’t have to return to Hogwarts until Monday morning first thing.

Mipsy hadn’t meant to startle anyone, particularly her new Mistress but unfortunately the sound of flatware being dropped on the table as well as the startled looks of surprise, let Mipsy know that she had indeed...

...caused a bit of a panic.

“Im’s sorry to bothers you Mistress?”

Hermione stared in horror at the small elf who was wearing a clean white tea towel, and had the largest eyes Hermione had ever seen on an elf.

“Can I help you?” Hermione asked warily, and the elf’s ears flapped in uncertainty as she nodded.

“I’s Mipsy, young, Mistress.”

“Do you belong to Malfoy?”

The elf stared at her in confusion for a second before Hermione realized she’d need to be more specific.

“I’m sorry, Mipsy?”

The elf nodded again.

“Why are you here?”

The little elf wrung her hands together fretfully, before saying in a small voice, “The Master has taken very ill, and has asked me to fetch Mistress.”

Hermione’s face fell, and with a single glance at both her parents, she could see the surprise—and then concern there.

“How did he take ill, Mipsy?”

The elf just shook her head.

“He’s nots waking, Mistress.”

“I don’t understand Mipsy,” Hermione’s voice wavered with a tinge of fear, “what do you mean, he won’t wake up?”

“I’s try to get Master to wake up and eat. He’s hasn’t eaten for days, Mistress.”

Hermione paled. Malfoy hadn’t written to her in nearly a month and despite her feelings on his previous letters, she had felt relieved at first and then worried that her single correspondence had stopped any subsequent letters from arriving by post.

But now she had to wonder if her words had been too harsh if Malfoy wasn’t eating or taking proper care of himself.

“What do you think I can do, Mipsy? Shouldn’t Draco’s parents be taking care of him?”

The elf wrung her hands again and then pulled on the flaps of her ears, tugging them down in distress.

“The Master wonts speaks to his parents and they haves not to him, Mistress. They hasn’t in two weeks.”

“Oh my!” Helen whispered as she glanced at her husband, who’s own facial expression was clearly upset by this sudden turn of events.

“Cans you please comes with me, Mistress?” Mipsy asked pleadingly. “The Master calls for you in his sleep.”

Hermione sat there in silence as she pondered just what to do. When she gazed back at her parents—she could see the compassion in her mother’s eyes and even her father seemed sympathetic.

But what if this was just some elaborate ploy to get her attention?

Shaking her head out of that unhelpful thought, Hermione realized that the fact that Malfoy’s own parents weren’t helping him out of whatever funk he was in?

_Was very telling._

Apparently Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy’s depth of feeling only went so far, where their only child was concerned and perhaps him impregnating a mudblood was a line they couldn’t accept.

“Mum?”

Hermione voiced the one word like a questioning plea and Helen sighed.

“Sweetheart, I think you need to go with Mipsy. At least for your own peace of mind. If Draco is really as bad off as Mipsy is saying, then perhaps you might take pity on him. Have you even asked him how he’s been?”

Hermione blushed in shame and shook her head in the negative.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Pumpkin,” her father admonished softly, “I may not approve of that young man’s family, but even I could see him trying to make a concerted effort on your wedding day. Have you even written to him in the past two months?”

“Once.”

Both her parents looks of shock and disappointment made Hermione feel like a coward.

So she did the only thing she could.

“Please take me to Draco, Mipsy.”

“Oh yes, Mistress!” Mipsy bowed as she rushed over and grabbed Hermione’s hand. “Thanks yous, Mistress.”

“It’s not a problem, Mipsy.”

“Hermione,” her mother spoke before she disapparated, “please let us know if we can help in any way.”

Shame was coiling in Hermione’s stomach, but she just nodded and replied, “I will, Mum.”

And with a ‘ _pop_ ’ she and Mipsy left her childhood home and reappeared into Draco’s bedroom.

The first thing that hit Hermione was the stench of sweat, vomit and alcohol.

The second was the hunched form in the middle of Malfoy’s bed, clutching a piece of parchment she instantly recognized in his fist.

Waving her wand and clearing the air a bit, lest she vomit herself—Hermione turned to Mipsy and said tiredly, “Please go draw a bath, Mipsy and then bring some broth and bread and when I get him into the loo, remove the sheets and sterilize or burn them. Then clean the room if you would.”

Mipsy bowed and with a crack she was gone.

Hermione moved over to the side of Malfoy’s bed and got her first good look at his haggard appearance, hissing in shock at how horrible he looked. There was at least a months worth of stubble on his face. His hair looked greasy and his skin sallow.

He looked worse than sixth year, if that was even possible.

“Malfoy.”

She whispered as she waved her wand over the bed and at her husband, casting a few cleansing and scourgifying charms for good measure.

When he didn’t immediately stir, she called out his name a few more times before she checked his pulse to see if he was still alive.

The minute her finger touched his skin however, his bloodshot eyes cracked open slightly and he frowned up at her.

“S’not real.” He mumbled deeply, closing his eyes again. “S’not real.”

As he was about to fall back asleep, Hermione realized that Malfoy was suffering from deep depression. She was fairly certain that while their marriage and what had occurred was a contributing factor, seeing his behavior back in sixth year made her wonder for a moment just how long he’d been suffering alone with no one to offer him any substantive support.

“Malfoy,” her voice was cajoling as she patted his face gently, “You’re not dreaming. You need to wake up and take a bath. You smell something awful.”

Grey eyes cracked open and second time and the frown deepened.

“Go away.”

His voice was harsh sounding, obviously from non-use. Moving a bit closer, Hermione’s foot hit something solid and when she looked down, the gasp that escaped her lips couldn’t be helped.

There were at least six empty bottles of firewhiskey on the floor next to Draco’s bed. Brandishing her wand, she vanished the offending items and then pointed her wand at Malfoy and watched in amusement as the silent spell of aguamenti spouted a stream of water that soaked her husband.

His sputtered ‘ _what the fuck_!’ Caused her to giggle loudly.

“Malfoy, you need to get up!” She demanded roughly. “Come on! Mipsy has a bath running for you and some food for you to eat after you’re done.”

Watching Malfoy struggle to sit up shouldn’t have made her worried, but it did as he moved gingerly. Then he gaped up at her blearily.

“You’re not a hallucination?”

She sighed and shook her head. “No, Malfoy. I’m very much here right now.”

Rubbing his eyes, Draco wasn’t sure if this really wasn’t one of his more elaborate drunken induced fantasies.

Oh, he’d had some doozies lately, but this one felt so real and he could almost smell Hermione’s sweet perfume over the staleness of his room.

Shaking his head sadly, he plopped down onto his bed that was soaked with water and then...

Frowning again, he patted his sheets and his eyes widened before he moved back into a sitting position and stared in awe at the vision in front of him.

“You’re really _here_?”

Hermione’s heart clenched at the broken tone of Malfoy’s voice, as if he couldn’t believe she’d actually come.

“Yes.” The whisper that fell from her mouth was filled with reluctant tenderness as she moved over to her husband and held out her hand for him to take. “Come on, Malfoy...lets get you cleaned up and fed, alright?”

He just nodded mutely as he placed his warm hand into her’s, before standing up—his legs shaking a bit but after a few moments he seemed to get ahold of himself better and allowed her to lead him into his ensuite where the steam from the large bathtub filled the loo.

Looking him over, she noticed he was watching her closely and for a moment she hesitated.

“Will you be alright if I leave you to it?” She asked and her heart cracked a bit as his face fell.

Then he swallowed deeply, bloodshot eyes closing briefly as if trying to stave off something unpleasant.

“You’re _leaving_?”

“I was going to wait outside.”

Draco’s gaze lowered, then widened as he noticed for the first time her swollen belly and he whimpered in wonder.

But his next action completely _destroyed_ her as he fell to his knees in front of her and cupped her belly tenderly on either side and placing his forehead on the peak of her stomach—his entire body shaking with emotion.

Hermione just stood there stunned, not moving—unsure of how to handle this Draco Malfoy who was clearly broken too. As he caressed her tummy, she felt traitorous tears forming behind her eyes and she had to take a couple deep breaths to stem to flow.

“ _Hey_...” Hermione heard Draco whisper to her belly, and she bit her lip hard to stop the gasp that wanted to break free, “I’m sorry I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to you both before now.”

Draco’s voice was cracking with emotion and Hermione couldn’t help herself as she placed her right hand on the crown of his head and left it there.

Then she felt him sigh with relief.

“Your Mum and I love you both. I hope you’re not keeping your Mum up too much and allowing her to get her rest.”

Hermione giggled in spite of herself.

Malfoy could be endearing when he wanted to be.

Grey eyes lifted up to her pleadingly as he said emotively, “I’m so, _so_ sorry, wife. What can I do to make this better between us?”

Hermione gripped her other hand into Draco’s hair and smoothed the greasy hair down with a grimace.

“Maybe start by taking a bath and not letting yourself wallow in misery like this, Malfoy.”

Draco tilted his head towards the large sunken bathtub and then back up to her with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Join me?”

“ _What?!?”_ She whispered out in shock, but Draco just smirked as he stood up shakily.

“Hermione, we need to start somewhere and we are married. I want to take a bath with my wife. Despite what you might think, I’ve missed you. Haven’t you thought about me at all these past two months?”

Averting her gaze, Hermione didn’t want to admit that she had thought about her husband more than she cared to admit.

“And?”

Draco sighed. “Your last letter made me think...”

“I figured,” she interrupted, “I saw it in your hand.”

“How are we going to fix this?”

Hermione pondered that question and decided to answer it with one of her own.

“Are you ever going to be able to stand up for yourself?”

Draco’s gaze narrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“Malfoy,” her voice was exasperated, “come on! You’ve locked yourself in this room for weeks according to Mipsy. Did your parents even come to check up on you at all during that time?”

The scoff was to be expected, but Hermione could see the pain flash in Malfoy’s grey eyes before he closed himself off.

“What’s it to you, wife.”

“That’s why!” She pleaded. “Malfoy, there is going to come a time when you’re going to have to make a choice. A choice for your life and how you want it to be!”

Draco just stared at her, ignoring the harsh truth of her words...but all he said was, “Hermione, this is the first time I’ve seen you in two months. Can’t we table the life altering decision making until after we’ve had a bath and eaten?”

Her eyes glinted with reluctant understanding.

“This is you negotiating, isn’t it?”

The snake smirked wider at how intuitive his lovely bride was.

“And if I told you it was?”

“Then I’d say you’re a manipulative prat.”

“You know this,” he shrugged, “you’ve always know this about me and yet you agreed to marry me anyway.” He moved forward and leant down into her space as he inquired curiously, “Why was that, I wonder?”

“You know why...I told you.”

“For the children?”

The question came out flat and Hermione nodded half-heartedly.

Draco just stared at her for several moments with a intensive scrutiny that made her nervous. She knew he was a very good Occlumens, but didn’t think he had the gift of Legilimency...or so she hoped. He finally looked away and started to undress himself, not caring one whit that she was standing there.

When she turned to leave the ensuite, he grabbed her arm with the quickness of a seeker and she stopped immediately, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Stay.”

“ _Malfoy_...” her body tensed and voice held a warning edge, but it didn’t seem to deter him as he pulled her back into his body and leant his head down into her hair...inhaling deeply.

“ _Please_ stay.”

His voice was like silk as he purred in that aristocratic voice of his that had been her downfall their shared eighth year.

“I’m not going to have sex with you, Malfoy.”

She felt his body sag behind her and heard his sigh, but all he said was, “I understand. I would just like to hold my wife and spend some time with her.”

She turned around and gave him an incredulous look of disbelief.

“By taking a bath together?”

Running a hand through his greasy locks, she smirked when he grimaced. 

He really did look awful.

“Hermione...” he moved them both over to the tub and sat them down on a small bench. “I’ve done a lot of thinking this past month since receiving your letter, and I realized something.”

“Which was?”

“That to build trust in a marriage...really build it, there needs to be a level of intimacy between husband and wife. Right now, all we have is our past which has been contentious...but there’s been good moments too, before I bollocksed it up, right?”

Hermione glanced out of the corner of her eye and felt her gut clench at Malfoy’s hopeful expression.

It was hard for her to admit that she wanted to hurt him as badly as he’d hurt her.

But there was another part of her that wanted to move forward, but couldn’t get past the fact that she didn’t trust the wizard next to her.

“Maybe.”

Was all she said and was surprised when Malfoy chuckled and shook his head at her.

“You’re so _stubborn_ , wife.”

“No—that’s not it at all, husband.” she bit back harshly, “You’re a _Slytherin,_ Malfoy. I’d think you’d understand self-preservation when you see it.”

He didn’t immediately respond to her comment, but went back to undressing himself before he stepped down into the bathtub that was about half the size of the one in the prefects bathroom at Hogwarts and stared up at her expectantly.

Then he held out his hand, his fingers wiggling and a playful lopsided grin on his aristocratic face.

“Come on, Hermione...” When she didn’t move he just sighed and said quietly, “ _Please_.”

Folding her arms over her expanding chest, she just glared at him.

“Why?”

His face morphed into confusion as he replied, “Why?”

“Yes, Malfoy... _why_?”

“Do I need a reason to spend time with my wife?”

“Yes, I think in this case you do?”

She lamented as she paced in front of the tub, her body radiating agitation.

But Draco noticed there was something else too.

 _Fear_.

That brought him up short.

What was his wife afraid of?

The infallible and determined Brightest Witch of the Age, who had withstood torture, survived a year on the run...

“Why are you afraid?”

He blurted out without thinking, and watched Hermione’s posture stiffen as her expression closed off.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dropping his one hand, while simultaneously reaching for a flannel with the other—Draco lathered it up with his favorite body wash that had notes of black peppercorn, citrus and a hint of ocean breeze. As he washed himself, he could see his little wife whiffing the scented aroma filling the room. He had known it was her favorite of the scents he’d worn back at Hogwarts, and by the glare she was sending his way...he knew she knew what game he was playing at.

Shaking her head in exasperation, she immediately turned to leave again only to hear Draco’s throat clearing from behind her.

“Will you at least stay and eat with me?”

Nodding once, she moved out of the bath before she did something she knew she’d regret.

Thankfully once she made her way back into Draco’s bedroom, the bed was remade with clean sheets and the room was spotless. She may detest the idea of House Elves as slaves but they were godsends sometimes.

Over by the window was a small table with a platter of food sitting under a stasis charm—and taking a closer look there was some broth, what looked to be leek soup, crusty bread and butter, some fruit and some slices of cold meat and cheese along with a pitcher of pumpkin juice.

Mipsy really was a sweet elf, and it was obvious she cared deeply for Malfoy.

Sitting down on the sofa, she didn’t have long to wait as Malfoy came out of the loo with a towel wrapped lowly around his waist. Her breath hitched as she took in his physique which was noticeably slimmer.

“You’ve lost weight.”

She said accusingly, and watched as Draco shrugged as he moved into his closet and came out a few moments later dressed in a pair of joggers and a singlet. His hair was washed and feet bare. His movements were slower than normal and it was clear he was weakened by his refusal to take care of himself.

“This looks nice.”

“I asked Mipsy to bring some food...I hope that was alright.”

Grey eyes locked onto hers for a moment before he nodded.

“It’s fine. I’m sure Mipsy was glad to help.”

“Is she your personal elf?”

Draco nodded again. “My nanny elf, actually.”

“Oh. Uhm...is that common?”

“For a nanny elf to stay on as a personal elf?”

“Yes.”

Draco shrugged as he removed the stasis spell and plated up a portion for her, which she took with a light ‘ _thank you’_ before dishing up a few things for himself.

She watched as her husband took a few tentative spoonfuls of broth, and a bite of bread. He seemed to be struggling for some reason.

“Are you okay?”

Her voice was more concerned that she had intended it to be, but it was hard not to be when Malfoy appeared so weak.

“I hadn’t realized just how long it had been since I’d eaten anything.”

“I can imagine,” her voice was critical. “I saw the empty firewhiskey bottles.”

“Oh.”

Draco lowered his head sheepishly, as he took a bite of cheese...chewing it thoughtfully then taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

“What were you _thinking_?”

Sitting back, Draco just stared at her. “I wasn’t thinking, wife,” he bit out, “I was _desperately_ trying not to think.”

“And how’d that work for you?”

“Cheeky, wife.”

“I’m not trying to be, husband,” she admonished with a scowl, “for a Slytherin, I wonder sometimes at your sense of self-preservation.”

This earned her a snort.

“That’s rude.”

“But true.”

“Explain then, oh Brightest Witch...what you mean by that clever observation.”

“ ** _Draco_**...” she growled and saw Malfoy’s eyes widen by the use of his given name.

The only time she’d called him by his given name had been during sex. 

The significance wasn’t lost on him.

“Why haven’t your parents been checking up on you? Mipsy told me that you haven’t spoken to them either.”

Draco took another spoonful of broth, and a bite of bread—doing his level best to ignore the question but his wife was having none of it.

When she stood to leave, he grabbed her hand within his own—his expression wary.

“Hermione, what do you expect me to say?”

“The truth would be good.” She demanded. “How are we ever supposed to build any kind of trust if you won’t be honest with me?” He went to defend himself, but she put her hand up in warning. “Lies of omission are still _lies_...”

She watched his shoulders sag, so she carried on...

“You can’t expect me to entertain a life with a wizard who can’t be honest with me. Who won’t put me, nor our children first.”

“That’s not fair!” He grated out. “I’m stuck here until June.”

“And then what?”

He blanched. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is, what happens in June? The babies are due in early April, but being twins it’s likely I’ll give birth before then. I’m not living here, Malfoy and I’m not raising these babies here.”

“Why?” He challenged. “You made my parents and myself sign that infernal contract...”

“That contract was to protect me and these children from being targeted by your less than savory relations.”

Draco’s expression darkened as he leant forward ominously.

“That’s _uncalled_ for.”

Hermione bowed her head and sighed, feeling her body shaking with adrenaline. This was why she couldn’t come here and do this because her husband was still in denial.

His parents, if left to their own devices, would’ve had her eliminated and these babies along with her.

She had absolutely no doubt about that.

“I was tortured in this home while you all stood and watched,” she whispered pained, not looking up to see her husband’s expression. “I was less than human in your eyes and that of your family. A disposable, _mudblood_.”

Draco hissed at the use of the word, but when Hermione lifted her eyes to meet his, she could see the stark regret in his face and his eyes widened at the tears running down her cheeks.

“I thought when you came back to Hogwarts eighth year that you hadn’t changed. But after a while, I saw that you had when I accepted your apology, and despite my concerns—I opened my heart to you. I thought erroneously that you saw me as a witch, as an _equal_? But you lied by omission and left me feeling...”

Draco moved forward and tilted his head to the side as he reached for his wife’s hand, which she pulled away at the last second. Undeterred, he inquired, “Feeling what?”

Amber eyes flashed as she snarled out, “Broken, okay? You broke me, you fucking piece of Pureblood bigoted _trash_! And I hated you for that. Some days, I think I still hate you for it.”

Draco paled, as he flinched back at the look of pure fury and rage on his wife’s face. But unfortunately she wasn’t done, as she stood and paced in front of him...her magic sparking in her anger.

“You’ve allowed your parents to ruin your life and you’ve made decisions to protect them... _I get that, Malfoy_ —but the larger truth is this: Do they love you and want the best for you? Are they ever going to look beyond their own prejudices, to accept me and these babies I’m carrying? I think we both know the answer to that is a big fat **NO**!”

“You don’t know that, wife.”

“And the fact you can’t see it, means that I can’t be here.”

“Wait!” He yelled to stop her from leaving. “What do you want me to say, Hermione? These are my parents. My _parents_!”

“And you love them.”

She didn’t phrase it as a question and Draco was surprised she understood—but logically, he probably shouldn’t have been, after what she went through with her own parents.

Her lips twisted at him sadly as she said, “That contract I had you all sign, wasn’t just for me or these children, Malfoy. It was for you too.”

Now he was confused. “What do you mean?”

“These babies have Malfoy blood and due to your father signing that contract they are considered Malfoy heirs.”

“Yes.” He nodded but she wasn’t done yet.

“You’re not just a Malfoy by birth or by blood, Draco...and neither are these children. Your mother having to sign that contract wasn’t only due to her being married to your father...”

She waited until comprehension dawned on Malfoy’s face.

“The Black lineage.”

“Yes.” She admitted and watched as Draco’s expression morphed into one of admiration as he waggled a finger at her and said, “ _Tricky witch.”_

“Maybe, but I’m also a practical witch. You have _options_ , Malfoy...that is why I made that contract. Yes, I wanted the protection, but not just for me. Your Father can’t disown you due to that contract and by rights, you are both the Malfoy Heir and Lord Black. So again, you’re not without options. I can’t decide your future for you, but I can for these children I’m carrying. I’ve seen what you’ve had to put up with over the years...desperately trying to prove yourself to a father who is cruel and vile. You love your mother, but what kind of mother allows her only son to follow a madman so she can be spared her poor choices...”

Draco stood up in anger, wavering slightly as he growled in warning.

“Don’t go there, Granger! You don’t get to speak about things you don’t know!”

She shook her head sadly and said in a small defeated voice.

“The truth is _this_...” her voice broke, but she gallantly soldiered on, deciding perhaps the truth might finally set her free.

“My intentions weren’t exactly honorable when I had you sign that contract...I’ll admit it. I wanted to break you like you broke me. I wanted you to hurt and feel humiliated like you did to me, but after seeing you tonight? I realize, I just don’t have that kind of hatred and vengeance inside me anymore. I need to do better and be better for our children, but I can’t come back here again. I’m sorry.”

Draco stood there in shocked outrage as he processed Hermione’s words, but there was one thing that didn’t make sense to him.

So he asked evenly, “And just how could I have broken you after everything, _wife_?”

Her amber eyes met his with tired defeat as she replied despondently, “Because in spite of everything? The Draco Malfoy that you showed me for those few precious months eighth year, was the wizard that I fell in love with.”

She watched the utter disbelief cloud his expression, and then shock—then raw pain as he stared disbelievingly at her...

“You really didn’t think I would have had sex with someone I didn’t love, did you, husband? Or perhaps you _did_ , and that’s why you treated me as nothing more than a disposable _whore_?”

Her breathing was heavy, and she rubbed her stomach as she felt it tighten a bit. Draco’s expression dropped as he came over but she held out her hand to stop him.

“I’m sorry, Malfoy.”

“For _what_?” He whispered out in raw anguish.

“I _never_ should’ve married you. I never should...”

Her voice broke and before he could stop her...she dropped her wand and disapparated away, leaving him standing there heaving in despair as the stark truth hit him like a bludger.

_It all made total sense now._

And he was such a selfish fuck for not realizing it sooner!


	12. Past Memories Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco delves into the last to try and find a way to fix his present and future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank for you all the love for this story!

Draco didn’t know how long he stood there staring at the spot his wife had disappeared from, but he couldn’t seem to get his brain to function beyond the truth that Hermione had fallen in love with him.

 _Him_...

A hateful, bigoted bully who had tormented her for years.

There was the mask that he’d been beholden to provide during his formative years as a protective barrier against those who would use his feelings and weaknesses against him.

Even his own parents, which was something that Draco had never admitted to anyone...but somehow his brilliant wife had seen the cracks and had looked beyond the mask to see the real him and not the part he was bound to play.

Sitting down and rubbing his hands down his face, he couldn’t get the defeated look on Hermione’s face out of his mind.

And he wasn’t sure he ever would.

The reality of his last year at Hogwarts had been such that he’d gone back because it had been either that or Azkaban. His Father had managed to use his knowledge of his former comrades to his advantage, but that hadn’t necessarily trickled down to him. Potter had testified for his Mother and himself, but it hadn’t changed the fact that he’d let Death Eaters into Hogwarts and had shared in the culpability of Dumbledore’s death.

He hadn’t wanted to return—even less when he’d found out that Hermione would be Head Girl alongside him. It was only later that he had overheard a conversation (more like a heated discussion) between the Weaselette and his wife (before Halloween), that let him know that it had only been by the grace of the Golden Girl and her willingness to work with him—that he’d been spared the likely humiliation of prison.

And his heart had hardened at first, but he’d apologized a week later.

She hadn’t testified for him and he wasn’t exactly surprised but when the reasons for why she hadn’t—which had only been made known to him in its entirety on their wedding day, had finally made sense. Oh, the Prophet had written an article that she had sent her parents into hiding somewhere in Australia—but there had been absolutely no mention of a memory charm as part of that story.

That had been a shock.

Once he’d gotten over his initial anger over owing Hermione for any measure of his freedom, he’d found himself watching her closely for a week and observing her everyday habits and interactions with those people she cared about.

And for the first time in seven years, he’d started to see her as something more than just Potter’s mudblood and the bane of his academic existence.

He’d noticed that she was a strong, capable witch who genuinely cared about people, magical creatures and in general seemed like she just wanted to make the world a better place.

Then she’d stood up for him that day in Hogsmeade and their causal, somewhat stunted conversations had turned into something far more...

He’d allowed his walls to fall, and they’d spent hours talking about magic, about books, classes and just simple things really—it wasn’t until mid-April that he’d realized that he was quite attracted to her and then that attraction—had turned into desire.

It was still incomprehensible to think that somewhere along the way during their shared last year, that his little wife had fallen in love with him. He wracked his brain for any signs that she might’ve given him that would’ve hinted at such affections—but he simply couldn’t remember any.

Perhaps he needed to look at this from another point of view, so he called for Mipsy and had her bring him the Malfoy Family pensieve so he could go over his more profound memories from that last year to figure out when it had all changed for Hermione.

_Flashback_

_Early September 1998_

_Memory 1_

_Draco didn’t know why he’d agreed to come back here. It wasn’t like there was anyone who wanted him to return to the place he’d almost destroyed. Blaise and Theo were going to be returning, so he wouldn’t be alone thankfully—but still..._

_He’d almost said ‘fuck it’ when he’d found out that he was going to be partnered with Granger of all the witches—as having to share Head Duties together was going to be a nightmare._

_Walking back to his new dorm room on the fifth floor down the hall from the prefects bathroom after the Welcoming Feast, he got to the tapestry of Almerick Sawbridge and gave the password— entering immediately into the large common room. There were two rooms off on each side which had their own baths attached. He moved into the room on the left and noticed it was already decorated for the Head Girl so he went towards the one on the right when the common room door opened and in stepped the one witch in all the world he didn’t want to see._

_Based on her grimace, it was clear she wasn’t keen on interacting with him either._

_“Malfoy.”_

“ _Granger.”_

_She sighed then pulled something out of a ratty beaded bag that was hanging from her waist._

_The papers clearly too large for such a small object._

_“Extension charm?” He didn’t know why he asked but her wary expression had him backtracking a bit...but all she did was nod and placed the parchments down on the table._

_“Prefect schedule. Have a look and let me know if you want to change anything.”_

_Draco was shocked._

_Was she really wanting his input?_

_“I’d thought you’d be more than happy taking charge of Head Duties, Granger.”_

_Another sigh and a flinch but all she said was, “I’d rather not assume anything, Malfoy. Particularly where you’re concerned. If you wish to be involved that’s fine. If not? I’m sure the Headmistress can find someone else to help with the Head responsibilities.”_

_He didn’t know why, but something in her expression was disconcerting but all did was reply evenly, “Whatever you want.”_

_He then turned away and left, to go sort out his own room._

_**Mid September 1998** _

_**Memory 2** _

__

_**Classes were going along swimmingly, and Draco was fairly relieved that for the most part—the majority of the other students had given him a wide berth. Theo and Blaise thankfully, shared some classes with him so that was helpful—but they were his only source of human interaction and they were staying in Slytherin House, where he wasn’t exactly welcome these days.** _

_**So tonight they were coming to the Heads Dorms to study together for Potions and Charms.** _

_**Placing out some of the treats Mipsy had brought from home...Draco got everything together when the common room door opened and Granger walked in...her appearance uncharacteristically flustered.** _

_**He decided to ignore her, but she took one look at the common table by the hearth and lifted an eyebrow questioningly.** _

_**“Company?”** _

_**He nodded, placing his books for his study subjects out in the spot he planned to work at for the evening.** _

_**“Well, enjoy yourself.” She murmured and started to leave but he stopped her.** _

_**“Don’t you have patrol tonight?”** _

_**She shrugged.  
** _

_**“No, Padma switched with me.”** _

_**“Oh.”** _

_**“Yeah, oh..”** _

_**Her expression fell a bit as she headed into her dorm room, and Draco could hear what he thought was her sniffling...almost like she’d been crying but he did his best to ignore it.** _

_**It wasn’t too long after Blaise and Theo arrived and they began to study in earnest until a little over two hours later, Granger came out with her hair pulled up into a messy bun, a kind of shirt he’d never seen a witch wear before (with tiny straps holding her bosom up noticeably) and a pair of sleep shorts that put her long legs on display.  
** _

_**Even Theo and Blaise were gobsmacked.** _

_**She didn’t seem to notice them at all as she went into the kitchenette area and grabbed a few items and headed back into her room...appearing dazed and unfocused.** _

_**When she was gone, his friends just stared at him.** _

_**“Did she even notice we were here?”  
** _

_**Theo asked his friends amused, after about twenty minutes and passed, while Draco didn’t reply—just shrugged with disinterest in response.** _

_**“Dunno, but who knew the mudblood looked so fit?” Blaise quipped, earning a hard glare from his blonde mate.** _

_**“Don’t use that word, Blaise.”** _

_**Blaise flinched but nodded. “Sorry, Draco.”** _

_**When he glanced back up, Draco was surprised when his eye caught Granger’s, who was staring hard at them all.** _

_**How had they not heard her come back out?** _

_**Apparently she’d heard Blaise’s comment and his response, but she didn’t say anything in rebuttal and to top it off—she was surprisingly dressed. He watched as she moved quickly towards the common room door and slammed it behind her with distinction as she left to go Merlin knew where.** _

_**They all grimaced, but nothing more was said on the subject that night.** _

_Mid October 1998_

_Memory 3_

_After the incident with Granger, Draco had made himself scarce and didn’t openly engage her for several weeks—leaving the Head Duties in her more than capable hands. His mother had written him a few times since school had started and currently he was in the library studying when he noticed Granger coming in with the Weaselette. The two witches moved down the aisle from where he was somewhat hidden and took a seat at a table just out of his eyesight._

_But he could still hear them whispering._

_“How is it really going, Hermione, working with the ferret?”_

_That was the Weaselette’s voice._

_There was a few moments of silence and then Granger spoke up._

_“About what I expected.”_

_“Has he called you...”_

_“No, but his friends have, in a roundabout way.”_

_“Zabini, or Nott?”_

_A heavy sigh and then..._

_“Does it matter, Gin?”_

_“I still don’t understand why McGonagall allowed him to return. Or why in Godric’s name she’d ever pair him with you as Co-Heads?”_

_Another tense silence and then a cough sounded from somewhere down another aisle, and the two witches stopped speaking for a bit but the silence didn’t last too long._

_“Why didn’t you tell McGonagall to pick someone else? Or refuse to work with Malfoy altogether? Merlin knows that bigoted arse doesn’t deserve any kindness you might show him after what he stood back and watched happen to you.”_

_Draco tensed minutely at the vitriol in the red-headed witch’s voice._

_It was clear the Weasley-Malfoy feud was alive and well as far as the youngest Weasley was concerned._

_“Gin, what difference does it make?” Another heavy sigh. “Malfoy has always hated me.”_

_“Because you of all people deserve a pass after everything you’ve been through and I can’t imagine working with the ferret is what you had planned for this year, when you decided to return.”_

_“Got that right.” Granger mumbled in irritation._

_“So?”_

_Another silence and then..._

_“I honestly don’t know why I allowed myself to be talked into taking pity on Malfoy, of all people. He’s definitely not as cruel as he once was, as I think the war changed us all...but he barely tolerates my presence and if he knew his freedom here at school was contingent upon...”_

_Granger’s voice fell away and Draco blanched, his whole body going rigid as he sucked in a stuttered breath and waited to see if Granger would elaborate._

_“Don’t look at me like that, Gin.”_

_“Like what, Hermione?” Another pregnant pause. “Wait a minute? Did McGonagall force you into working with Malfoy?”_

_The last few words were spoken with a hiss, and Draco strained to hear the answer._

_Which was given after a few more minutes of uncomfortable silence._

_“Not exactly.”_

“ _What then? What aren’t you telling me?”_

_Another sigh, this one tinged with exasperation and long-suffering._

_“Apparently,” Granger whispered lowly, “Malfoy was supposed to be sent to Azkaban. I’m not sure of the particulars but the Wizengamot made his release and probation here contingent on my willingness to work with him as Co-heads.”_

_“Blimey!” Then there was a scoff. “You mean, if you hadn’t agreed?”_

_“The Headmistress would’ve informed Kingsley and Malfoy would’ve been...”_

_Granger’s voice fell away helplessly, and Draco felt his whole body seize with horror at the fact that he owed Hermione fucking Granger his freedom._

_Why had she agreed?_

_After everything?_

_Apparently the Weaselette was a fucking mind reader because she immediately voiced his own thoughts out loud and ended with a “You know that Malfoy would’ve let you rot.”_

_There was a caustic snort, and Draco could only imagine the expression on Granger’s face right about now._

_It was true. He’d never have put himself out there for her._

_And that was why he was a coward and she was the Golden Girl of the Wizarding World._

_“Too right.” Granger murmured and then sighed again. “But,_ _Gin? I can’t live my life with that kind of hatred. Malfoy hates me, but I can either choose to live with that kind of poison infecting my soul or I can be the bigger person.”_

_“Even if the ferret never knows and wouldn’t appreciate it even if he did?”_

_Hey! That was completely uncalled for, Draco thought to himself._

_“I don’t know,” Granger replied, “Blaise called me a mudblood and I heard Malfoy tell him not to use the word. So who knows what Draco Malfoy thinks on any given day. All I do know is I only have to work with him until June and then it’s likely I’ll never have to set eyes on him again. He will be on house arrest for another year once school is done and then Merlin willing, he will be nothing but a bad memory.”_

_“Do you hate him?”_

_Draco leant forward and waited for the answer with baited breath._

_It was a long time before Granger spoke her voice tinged in resignation, “Hate is such a strong emotion to place upon anyone, Gin. What I do know is I hate the way Malfoy has treated me over the years. I hate that he watched me being tortured by his batty aunt, and did nothing. I hate that he felt it was alright to be so vile and cruel. I hate that he was branded into the service of a madman who threatened his family. I hate that there’s obviously still bigotry, even after everything I’ve fought and nearly died for. I hate that I can’t sleep at night without placing silencing charms because I don’t want Malfoy to know that every time I close my eyes—all I see is his face staring at me with that vacant, frightened expression as I’m being tortured, and I wake up screaming....but most of all? I hate that I can’t hate him, even after everything he’s done.”_

_Draco sat back in his seat completely dumbfounded as the silence stretched out as deep as the cavern in his soul and he simply couldn’t move...couldn’t breathe as he stared at where he knew Granger was sitting and felt an overwhelming sense of guilt, regret and anger._

_But most of all, he felt the weight of his own cowardice like a collar of self-loathing and condemnation and he didn’t know if he was angrier at Granger for her selflessness? Or at himself for spending the past seven years being an utter hateful prat._

_**Halloween 1998** _

__

_**Memory 4** _

__

_**Draco was in his usual spot in the library near the restricted section doing his homework for NEWT Potions when he heard steps approaching his table. When he looked up it was to the wary expression of Granger, who seemed to be warring with herself about being near him.** _

_**“Granger?”** _

_**“Malfoy,” she bit her lip and sighed, eyeing his books that were laid out on the table. “I was wondering if you have the copy of Uncommon Potions, Poisons and Plants?”** _

_**Draco looked over his books and noticed the one Granger was asking about.  
** _

_**He currently wasn’t using it.** _

_**He briefly pondered over the fact that he’d spent an inordinate amount of time this past week closely watching Granger trying to get a grasp on his own feelings towards everything he’d heard the previous week in her conversation with the youngest Weasley and he’d decided that perhaps, he needed to try to be a better Co-head if nothing else.** _

_**He didn’t want to ponder the other things he’d been thinking lately.** _

_**“I do.” He replied evenly.** _

_**“Oh, well...” she cleared her throat primly and stood up a bit straighter. “Are you actively using it right now? Because if not, I was hoping you might let me borrow it for a bit so I can finish my Potions assignment.”** _

_**Draco stared at Granger, seeing the tension in her body and it was clear that as much as she didn’t want to be asking any favor if him...she was bracing herself for his propensity towards unkindness.** _

_**“Sure,” he grabbed the book, not noticing her shocked expression as his head was down, and when he looked up her face had morphed back into a neutral expression. “If you could bring it back to the common room later? I’ll get it back then.”** _

_**Taking the proffered book, Hermione nodded slowly. “I can do that.” Pulling the book into her chest, Draco watched Granger giving him a calculated look before she said simply, “Thank you.”** _

_**And before he could respond accordingly, the bookworm walked back to her usual spot and he’d thought nothing more of it until later.** _

_Halloween 1998_

_Memory 5_

_Later that night, Draco found his way back to the Heads dorm. He’d been in the library most of the day, having been a Saturday. Giving the password, he was pulled up short when he noticed Granger sitting in the common room, reclining on the sofa quietly reading a book and sucking on a sugar quill. Her eyes lifted to his immediately, as she closed the book and stood up—reaching down on the table for another book which he immediately recognized._

_Draco watched the memory as his past self took in Granger’s appearance. She was in a kind of Muggle clothing he’d never seen her wear before. The pants were black and fitted...sculpting her legs and arse and the top was an off the shoulder fitted tunic of some kind._

_Draco smiled at the memory as looking back on that moment...he realized with sudden clarity that it was the first time he’d noticed Granger as something more..._

_“Hey,” her voice was hesitant as she handed over the book with a nod of thanks. “I just wanted to give this back to you. Uhm...it was...” her body flinched inwardly and Draco could see she was struggling a bit. “Nice of you to loan it to me.”_

_Draco nodded in return and took back the proffered book without hesitation, which caused Hermione’s face to scrunch in confusion as she bit her lip._

“ _Was there something else?” He asked, curious and was surprised when she took a step back and shook her head emphatically._

_“No, nothing.” Turning around, Draco eyes widened when he got a full, unobstructed view of her arse and he actually found himself staring for a moment before getting control of his faculties._

_**Real Draco just grinned lecherously as he leered lasciviously at his little wife’s lush backside.** _

_She really was a delectable witch._

_Memory Draco went to leave before a thought brought him up short. He turned his head back over his shoulder and noticed Granger’s shoulders sagging in what looked to be relief._

_“Are you alright?” He asked quietly, and almost snorted when she jumped slightly from her seat as she considered him for a moment._

_“I’m fine, Malfoy.”_

_He nodded, then moved back over to where she was sitting and took the seat opposite from her...seeing the uncertainty in her eyes as she watched him warily._

_He supposed he deserved her scrutiny after everything._

_Clearing his throat, he decided to get this over with as he’d been thinking about the best way to approach her over the past week. He’d spent so much time watching her every move this past week, he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d noticed and that was why she was on edge._

_Or was it something else entirely?_

_“Did you need something?”  
_

_Her voice was controlled, but both Draco’s could see an edge of something in her gaze that was hard to define._

_As real Draco observed his wife’s demeanor...he realized she was bracing herself._

_And with a hiss, which neither his memory self nor that of his wife could hear...he realized why Hermione had been bracing herself._

_She was expecting him to say something cruel or hurtful to her and then he realized why she had been acting so fidgety that day._

_In all the years he’d known her...every time they’d crossed paths in class, in the hallways...he’d been dismissive of her and on the few occasions that they’d accidentally touched, he’d been scathing in his manner saying things like ‘now I’ll have to go wash off the mudblood germs’ and ‘don’t contaminate me with your filth, mudblood.’_

_Memory Draco had been too self-involved to see the signs but real Draco just stood there and stared in shame at his memory wife who was desperately trying to brace herself for the inevitable vitriol she was sure was coming her way._

_And he felt even worse than he’d had previously, if possible._

_But the memory ‘him’ just cleared his throat and said stiffly, “I wanted to take a moment and apologize to you.”_

_Hermione’s expression was perplexed, as if she didn’t quite understand what he’d said, so Draco forged ahead._

_“I know I’ve been a hateful git to you over the years. And...” he paused and rubbed his hands together in a show of nervousness, even though his gaze was steady on Granger’s. “I’ve no right to ask for your forgiveness for all I’ve done but I just wanted you to know that I’m truly sorry for everything.”_

_Hermione just cocked her head and clenched her jaw slightly as she observed him in the memory. Her gaze was unflinching and he realized as he watched the memory that she was looking closely for any sign of deceit from him._

_After a moment she slowly nodded her head and said, “I’ll admit, I’m surprised by your apology.”_

_Both Draco’s smirked identically at the honesty but memory Draco replied with, “Well, it was long overdue.”_

_“Thank you.”_

_“You’re welcome.”_

_A few more moments of awkward silence and Draco watched as Hermione stood up and grabbed her book to her chest. Real Draco’s eyes narrowed as he took notice of the title of the book...it was Tess of the d’Urbervilles, authored by someone called Thomas Hardy. Real Draco could see the book was a fairly worn paperback that had obviously been read several times._

_But the memory version of himself was clueless as stared up at Granger with a questioning look as she gazed at him briefly before heading back into her own dorm room for the evening._

_Draco watched himself stare at Granger’s door for a few moments as he took in his past self’s expression of wonder and awe._

_And he smiled softly as he remembered that moment clearly, thinking the same thing he was now._

_How in the world was Hermione Granger so forgiving?_

_So good?_

Feeling his body being pulled out of the pensieve, Draco sighed and rubbed his hands down his face in agitation. It was clear that there was much to unpack from this little walk down memory lane. As he waved his wand and checked the time, it was nearing dinner and he was hungry.

Over the past two weeks since Hermione had left, he’d watched the memories and spent hours writing in a journal about all the things he’d felt watching those memories. He still hadn’t heard from his parents, but he wasn’t surprised at all. Christmas was coming up next week and he was unsure what to do about the holiday but now perhaps he had an idea.

Grabbing a piece of parchment, he wrote the one person who he knew would help him with what he wanted to do.

Perhaps he needed to start making a more concerted effort to effect change for himself now. At least in the ways in which he was able to.


	13. Past Memories Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco continues to delve into the past...and makes a startling discovery.

For the first time in Draco’s life, he had to truly face the consequences of his actions in a way that forced him to look at the boy he’d been and how the choices he’d made was now affecting the man he’d wanted to become. Once he’d decided to use the pensieve to observe his past memories of that last year at Hogwarts—he’d come to the conclusion that to own his mistakes and to make sure the ‘old’ version of himself didn’t rear its ugly head again...he needed to put his innermost thoughts down on parchment and remember how he felt in this moment.

That decision had been more cathartic in some ways then watching the memories.

As he stared at the remaining vials...five of them in total...Draco pondered where he would go from here once he was done. Once he viewed the memories, he’d not only have to face how much he’d hurt his wife, but how in the world he could go forward and be the husband to her and the father his children would need him to be.

He still hadn’t spoken to his parents, and he didn’t see that changing at least until he got through this. So without second-guessing himself anymore than he’d already done...he filled the basin of the pensieve with the next memory and dived right in...

_**Early April 1999** _

__

_**Memory 6** _

__

_**Draco was doing his rounds in Hogsmeade as it was his turn to patrol. Blaise and Theo had just left him, as they were going to head over to Honeydukes and Draco still had another hour of rounds before he could join them.** _

_**As he headed towards Scrivenshafts, Draco checked a few of the side alleys to make sure none of the younger students were getting into any mischief.** _

_**He sighed to himself when he thought about how much trouble he’d gotten into in those early years at Hogwarts. Crabbe, Goyle and even Theo would walk around the Wizarding village like they’d owned the place. Taunting other student and in general being a right git.** _

_**Those thoughts filled him with with another measure of self-loathing as ‘real’ Draco watched his doppelgänger move steadily through Hogsmeade with a contemplative expression on his face.** _

_**Draco had remembered that day well, even knowing what his memory-self was thinking about in those long moments before the confrontation he knew was coming—occurred.** _

_**He’d been pondering how things had changed between him and Granger. It had been subtle at first, but over time he’d even looked forward to sitting with her in their shared common room as they studied separately...but every so often she’d ask him a question or vice versa.** _

_**It had been nice, and not for the first time Draco had wondered what Hogwarts might’ve been like if there hadn’t been a Dark Lord. Hadn’t been this all-consuming hatred of Muggles and Muggle-borns.** _

_**Both Draco’s were brought out of their reverie when a scathing voice spoke up.** _

_**“Hey mates, look who it is?”** _

_**The stiffening of his shoulders and the twitch of his left hand was instinctive.** _

_**In both Draco’s.** _

_**“Yeah,” another voice drawled and Draco turned around to see five wizards glaring at him hatefully.** _

_**One he recognized was a prefect from Gryffindor.** _

_**Just lovely.** _

_**“So tell us, Death Eater?” The prefect...was his name Carrigan? Sneered at him in disgust. “How many people did Daddy have to blackmail or bribe to get you out of serving time in Azkaban?”** _

_**Another wizard, a Ravenclaw...Brantley? (No, that wasn’t it), spoke up scathingly, “Merlin knows that no one at Hogwarts wants you here, Malfoy? You’re a disgrace to Wizarding kind.”** _

_**“A real coward.”  
** _

_**Another one said and the fifth wizard subtly drew his wand, while Draco just stared at them all, refusing to be baited into giving any of them a reason to hex him.** _

_**It wasn’t like he could retaliate as his wand was being monitored.** _

_**The Gryffindor prefect just scoffed.  
** _

_**“You used to think you were so much better than the rest of us. Strut around like you were the top shite. Now look at you, Death Eater! How’s it feel to be nothing more than the lowest piece of filth?”** _

_**Draco clenched his jaw as he watched his past self stand there stoically, refusing to engage.** _

_**The taunts only got worse from there and when another one of the wizards drew their wand it was then a sound emerged from behind them.** _

_**A female clearing of the throat.** _

_**When Draco looked back he could see Granger in all her righteous glory, staring down the other wizards and then she gave them a proper tongue-lashing—leaving them all chastened and he was stunned.** _

_**The ‘real’ him just stared at his wife closely and he could see the fury, the disgust but it wasn’t directed at him.** _

_**There was also disappointment too...as if she was simply tired of all the hateful rhetoric and wished to be free of it.** _

_**Draco watched his other self thank Hermione, and he smiled sadly at her response.** _

_**As both of his selves watched her walk away...the ‘real’ him noticed her shoulders shaking and a trembling hand moving her wand back into the back pocket of her jeans.** _

_**And he gasped in shock.** _

_**Had she been scared for herself?  
**_

_**Or for him?** _

_**Then the memory faded.** _

_Late April 1999_

_Memory 7_

_He was back in the Head’s dorm, but this time he and Hermione were sitting side by side on the couch. They had been studying well into the evening, working on both Transfiguration and Defense._

_“You’re wrong, Granger,” his memory self smirked._

_“And just how do you know that, Malfoy?”  
_

_She bit back in that infuriating way of hers. For the past couple weeks they’d been studying almost every evening together. At first it had been one of them asking the other for an opinion on an assignment or a text. But then, they’d started to debate...everything really. From school to books to why she hated Quidditch. They’d talked about everything, but Family and friends—as if they both understood those weren’t safe topics for whatever was brewing between them._

_“Because I’m right.”  
_

_His smirk widened and he watched in amusement as Hermione rolled her eyes, but there was a brief twitch of her lips that let him know she was more amused than irritated._

_“And if you’re not?”_

_Draco turned to face her fully, his eyes alight with mischief. “A wager?”_

_She huffed, but she was also biting her lip hard trying not to smile and ‘real’ Draco felt himself respond to her playful expression as the memory him just sat back smugly and waited for her to answer._

_“What kind of bet are we talking here?”_

_“Well, I suppose on how convinced you are that you are right and I’m not.”  
_

_He grinned and there was in that split second, a look that came over his wife’s face that Draco was sure he’d missed the first time around and a single look at his other self, confirmed it._

_Hermione’s eyes had darkened and dilated as she considered him._

_There it was..._

_Desire._

_“Okay,” she breathed out on a huff, “let’s make this a good one then?”_

_Draco just chuckled as his memory version leant forward even more and licked his lips in anticipation, causing Hermione’s face to blush._

_“You’re blushing, Granger.”_

_“Shove it, Malfoy.”_

_This got a real laugh from him.  
_

_The first one he could remember giving in well...ever._

_As his other’s head was titled back in mirth for a few seconds, it gave Draco the chance to observe his wife’s reaction and he stopped cold._

_She was smiling in pure delight at him._

_There was no hesitation nor censure in her gaze._

_No wariness at all._

_She looked...happy._

_Carefree._

_When the memory him, cleared his throat and shook his head before making eye contact once again, in that split second he watched in awe as Hermione’s facial expression changed on a sickle. It became placid and unassuming._

_Did she know Occlumency?_

_The ‘real’ him shook his head in wonder._

_How had he not guessed that?_

_“So what will it be, Granger?” His voice sounded smug in the memory._

_“Well,” she cleared her throat primly, “if I win, Mipsy’s strawberry tarts are mine for the rest of the school year.”_

_Draco’s mouth opened in shock as he hadn’t expected...that!_

_“Those are my favorite, witch.”_

_“I know.”  
_

_A wicked smile curved over her mouth and memory Draco’s gaze narrowed at how utterly devilish she looked in that moment, while ‘real’ Draco just snorted._

_“Fine,” he replied easily, “and if I win? You have to wear something in Slytherin green for the rest of the school year?”_

_She blanched and then coughed out a surprised, “What?”_

_He grinned, clearly pleased with himself._

_“You heard me, Granger.”_

_Both Draco’s watched as Hermione bit her lip again and contemplated the challenge before she nodded in finality._

_“You have yourself a bet, Malfoy.”_

_He held out his hand and ‘real’ Draco watched as Hermione stared at the offered appendage for a moment and right before she gently placed her hand within his, he moved over to the couch and knelt down next to his wife and watched her avidly. The minute she touched his hand, he saw the barely noticeable intake of breath catching in her chest and her gaze lower quickly—as if she was trying to get herself under better control._

_The memory version of himself just chuckled knowingly, but the bet was sealed and that was that._

_**Early May 1999** _

__

_**Memory 8** _

__

_**“Draco Malfoy! You unmitigated snake!”** _

_**The common room door slammed shut and Draco was sprawled out on the couch with the smuggest, smug known to Wizarding kind plastered upon his pointed face.** _

_**He could see the sparks of magic coming off Hermione’s hair and both Draco’s chuckled deeply as they watched the little witch stomp over towards the couch.** _

_**Now, the Draco watching the memory could see that his past self was observing Hermione closely, and there was a hint of fear at how Valkyrie-like she looked with her hair all wild and magic bristling around her. Both Draco’s smirked and the memory version lifted an arrogant eyebrow, ignoring for the moment that this witch as a force to be reckoned with.** _

_**“So, you finally realized that I was correct?”** _

_**“How?”  
** _

_**She stomped her foot in righteousness and Draco guffawed in earnest.** _

_**“Well...it’s simple really, Granger dear? Would you like me to explain it to you?”** _

_**She huffed but plopped down on the couch and glared at him in open dislike.** _

_**But there was that glint in her eyes that was both curious and aroused and not for the first time, ‘real’ Draco wondered how he could’ve been so blind not to see her subtle tells of attraction and desire.** _

_**“My godfather, actually.”** _

_**“What?” Hermione flinched back and Draco sighed.** _

_**“Severus left me his potions journals and there is a way to increase the effectiveness of Polyjuice if you pick the fluxweed on the full moon—on Beltane. Just as it’s possible to reduce the effectiveness if you pick it on full moon during Samhain.”** _

_**Hermione just sat back pouting with her arms crossed over her chest.** _

_**“I’m curious?” He grinned playfully, “Did you ask Slughorn?”** _

_**“No, you great prat!” She growled, “I found a cross reference in Most Potente Potions that led me to Hugo Bonham’s text on Magical Maladies and Cures. From there I cross referenced another text on The Healing Properties and Potencies of Magical Herbs. There I found the mention of fluxweed as it’s used for magical healing properties and it even denoted that it is more potent during the full moon on Beltane.”** _

_**“Well, how interesting.” He purred. “It would seem I’ve won our little bet.”** _

_**Hermione just stared at him blankly before she shrugged unbothered.** _

_**“I suppose you won, although it’s not fair to win if you’re going to cheat.”** _

_**Draco placed a mocking hand over his heart in feigned hurt.** _

_**“I don’t cheat, Granger. You just assumed that you were right as you tend to do quite a bit.” She blushed and both Draco’s grinned. “Not to say that you’re not more right than not...but...in this case your weren’t.”** _

_**“Fine.”** _

_**“You’re really a sore loser.” He bit back and Hermione rolled her eyes.** _

_**“As if you’d be any happier if you’d lost our bet, Malfoy.”** _

_**“Perhaps,” he replied easily, “but I didn’t.”** _

_**Hermione just shook her head but she was biting back a grin and Draco just stood back and observed his wife, who didn’t appear as upset as she should’ve been.** _

_**Then the thought occurred to him.** _

_**Did he get played?** _

_**Did she already know the truth about the fluxweed and had somehow maneuvered him into the bet.** _

_**But she couldn’t have known what he’d ask for?** _

_**Right?** _

_**As ‘real’ Draco thought about it, and realized what was coming...he just guffawed in wonder and watched along with his other self as Hermione walked back towards her room as the past version of himself drawled arrogantly, “So Slytherin green tomorrow, witch.”** _

_**They both got a dismissive wave for their troubles.** _

_Mid May 1999_

_Memory 9_

_Draco had been waiting since early that morning for Granger to walk out of her dorm room, wearing the aforementioned Slytherin green. He’d been chuffed all night at the thought that the Gryffindor Princess would soon be spending the next thirty days or so, skulking around the castle in his House colors._

_He was inordinately pleased with the thought._

_‘Real’ Draco just stood back and casually observed his other self and waited for the moment the Head Girls dorm room opened._

_Which it did in short order._

_When Hermione came into view, he couldn’t help but smile at the disbelief on his ‘other’ self’s face—which was comical._

_And then pissed._

_“Granger? Did you forget something?”_

_Draco’s gaze raked down the Golden girl—who’s attire for their classes was her typical Gryffindor fare. In fact...there wasn’t a stitch of Slytherin green anywhere that he could see._

_Granger looked around, in faux confusion trying desperately to keep her expression neutral as she shrugged and said, “I don’t think so?”_

_The ‘real’ Draco watched his alter ego stalk towards the bushy-haired know-it-all as he stared his nose down at her._

_“We had a bet, witch,” Draco’s voice was strained, and the muscle twitching in his jar was clear to see._ _“Are you really trying to renege on our bet?”_

_Oh...that?” Hermione said in amusement. “You know? Come to think of it we didn’t specify what kind of Slytherin green attire I was mandated to wear—did we, Malfoy?”_

_Draco’s gaze darkened as he leered down at the little witch and ‘real’ Draco smirked when he saw his wife’s eyes glisten with triumph as she stared up at him._

_“What are you talking about, Granger?”_

_“Just what I said, Malfoy.” She responded flippantly, as she moved over to grab an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. “We didn’t specify the ‘what or where’ just that I had to wear ‘something’ on my person.”_

_Hermione’s lips twitched as she waited patiently for Malfoy to pick up on exactly what she was trying to tell him..._

_Three..._

_Two..._

_One..._

_Ah, there it was! Draco grinned and snorted, as he watched his former self’s eyes widen and then darken into a stormy slate as he lowered his face near Hermione’s level and stared her down._

_Then his lips quirked in amusement and before Draco could say ‘boo’ his past self threw back his head and laughed uproariously._

_His mirth lasted for quite some time, and Hermione just stood there in complete stunned silence as she watched him lose himself._

_Which had never happened quite like this and definitely not with anyone outside of his close circle of friends._

_Her expression was heated and ‘real’ Draco saw her hitch in a breath even as her chest heaved in arousal, but his past self never picked up on it as he just snorted, then smiled in exasperation._

_“So,” a slight cough and a shake of the head, “how do I know you’re telling me the truth?”_

_Hermione did gasp in righteous indignation placing her hand over her heart in mock hurt—but she was biting on her lip so hard, obviously to keep herself from laughing too. Her amber eyes were alight with amusement as she said, “You won’t take my word for it?”_

_Draco wagged his finger and replied, “Not bloody likely, witch.”_

_“Oh!”  
_

_Her voice was a bit breathless but nonetheless she kept eye contact as she unbuttoned her blouse, trying her best not to blush and both Draco’s breath caught as the deep Slytherin green lace of the top of her brassiere came into view before she quickly buttoned herself back up._

_As she walked out of the dorm room, all she said was...  
_

_”Next time you make a bet, Malfoy? Make sure you firm up the specifics and don’t leave yourself a gaping loophole.”_

_As the outer door closed, Draco’s laughter was once again...heard throughout their dorm room._

_**Late June 1999** _

__

_**Memory 10** _

__

_**They’d been partying with the rest of the seventh and returning eighth year’s in the Come and Go Room, and the firewhiskey, butterbeer and a Muggle spirit called Tequila (which had been smuggled in) had been passed around throughout the evening. By the time Draco had been at the party for an hour, he was already feeling a bit tipsy.** _

_**When the two hour mark hit, he was fairly shite-faced but still able to see Granger sitting and chatting up Finnegan and Thomas, who was sitting a bit closer than was strictly appropriate.** _

_**Theo and Blaise were flanking him, making sure no one came too close but Draco’s attention was firmly on the Gryffindor Princess who was wearing a fucking Slytherin Green dress that hugged her curves and hit her mid thigh, so her long legs were on display.** _

_**And if Thomas didn’t get his fucking hand off Granger’s knee, Draco was going to hex the fucking blighter.** _

_**“You alright there, Mate?”** _

_**Blaise asked before he took a measured sip of his firewhiskey while Theo just leaned back against the cold wall, his gaze disinterested.** _

_**“Fine.”** _

_**“Doesn’t sound fine,” Theo mused while Blaise hummed in the affirmative.** _

_**“Piss off, you two.” Draco groused, slamming back a swig of alcohol and enjoying the burn.** _

_**‘Real’ Draco watched himself in bemusement as he realized just how obvious he was being with his interest in Granger.** _

_**He hadn’t taken his eyes from her all evening.** _

_**Something must’ve gotten through to her though, because at that moment she looked up and caught his eye and smiled softly.** _

_**It was brief, but Draco remembered feeling his chest tighten at the expression.** _

_**Which had left him feeling a bit out of sorts, so he’d bailed.** _

_**“I’m gonna head back to the Head Dorms.” His speech was only slightly slurred and Theo rolled his eyes.** _

_**“Spoilsport.”** _

_**“Piss off, Theo.”** _

_**“Don’t you have anything more original to say?” Blaise quipped and Draco just scoffed as he threw back the last of his drink before leaving the party.** _

_**He’d almost made it back to the dorm, when he heard the click-clack of footsteps behind him.** _

_**When he turned around, he saw Granger stumbling a bit as she was clearly a bit sloshed herself.** _

_**“Done partying?”** _

_**“I think so.” She answered with a grin. “I figured I should probably get back to my room and pack at some point instead of leaving it to the last.”** _

_**Draco gave the password and opened the door for Hermione, which she smiled and said a sweet, “Thank you.”** _

_**His nod was brief, but as she moved past him he got a good whiff of her sweet perfume and felt his stomach clench.** _

_**She smelled like gardenias, jasmine and vanilla.** _

_**It was light and perfect.** _

_**He moved through the common room door and shut it behind them both, snorting when Granger stumbled a bit as she tried to get her high heels off her feet.** _

_**Staring down at the clearly Muggle shoes, Draco had to admit—they were rather brilliant. Three inch heels and a peep toe...the tapered body hugging Granger’s tiny feet perfectly.** _

_**“Do you need some help there?”** _

_**Hermione glanced up in surprise and then giggled.** _

_**It was a sound Draco was fairly certain he’d never heard from her before.** _

_**“Are you offering to help me undress, Malfoy?”** _

_**As Draco observed his wife, he could see that she didn’t exactly expect him to take her up on the offer because when his past self lunged at her, lifting her up into his arms and slamming his lips down on hers?  
**_

_**Her delighted squeal of surprise was immediately drowned out by his growl and her needy moan.** _

_**Of all the memories he’d watched, this one he knew—was going to be the hardest to get through.** _

_**His memory self pinned Hermione against the wall as he moved his lips from her mouth to her neck and sucked voraciously on her pulse point—causing her to buck wantonly into his body, where his erection was already rock hard and aching.** _

_**“Malfoy...” she whispered and then moaned as he sucked even harder...knowing instinctively that there would be a large bruise there marking her the next day.** _

_**Her hands gripped into his hair and pulled...hard...** _

_**Causing him to snarl as his lips crashed down on hers again and hands somehow, managed to work their way under the green dress that had taunted him for hours as he grabbed two handfuls of her perfect, luscious arse.** _

_**He’d almost dropped her when he felt bare skin under his palms.** _

_**Pulling back slightly, he groaned.** _

_**“Are you wearing knickers?”** _

_**Her flushed face and sinful smirk were the stuff of several of his more recent fantasies, as she quipped cheekily, “It’s called a thong.”** _

_**“A what?”** _

_**Granger just giggled again and shrugged, so Draco figured that they’d talked enough for now and he kissed her again forcefully.** _

_**Her immediate response had him growling deeply into her mouth.** _

_**He then ran his fingers along the seam of her arse and down to where he wanted and felt her soaked.** _

_**“Fuck!”  
** _

_**He murmured against her lips, as his quick intake of breath was stemmed by another kiss.** _

_**“Yes, please!”** _

_**It had only taken a split second for Draco to register that he’d been given permission to do exactly what he’d wanted to, but when he ripped Hermione’s knickers from her body and somehow got his trousers unfastened...it was as if he’d been waiting for this moment for forever.** _

_**But nothing could’ve prepared him for how good she felt as he sunk into her perfect warmth.** _

_**They both hissed in pleasure as Draco stared at Granger— her eyes closed in bliss...her face scrunched up in pained ecstasy as she adjusted to his invasion.** _

_**‘Real’ Draco moved over and stood right next to the panting couple and focused all of his attention on his wife. She looked utterly exquisite and when she opened her eyes and stared at his other self, Draco could see overwhelming passion and want there.** _

_**Then he’d fucked her in earnest and her screams and pleas had been music to his ears.** _

_**Still was.** _

_**As he continued to pound into her willing body, Hermione’s moans became louder and lustier until Draco felt his body start to snap in two and his snarl of “Come for me, witch” had Hermione screaming out his given name in wonder.** _

_**Then they’d collapsed onto the floor in a heap of tangled limbs with Draco cradling Granger’s head within his hands as he kissed her breathless for several more minutes.** _

_**Somehow, the rest of their clothes came off and the next round saw him bending Hermione over their common room couch and taking her from behind.** _

_**Their third round found them in her dorm bed as she cradled his body into hers and he fucked her through two more orgasms before he’d finally closed his eyes and let himself go—his body bowed as he groaned out her given name in gratitude.** _

_**And her expression in that moment was one Draco was sure he’d never seen before on Granger’s face—ever.** _

_**It was open, free and filled with wonder.** _

_**With love—and as he stared at her, his other self finally opened his eyes and gazed down on the witch underneath him as he rolled them both to the side and pulled her into his embrace...falling asleep instantly.** _

Coming out of the pensieve, Draco sighed and felt his body shaking with adrenaline.

She’d _loved_ him.

Hermione had somehow, looked past all the evil he’d done and fallen for him.

And he’d left her.

It was no wonder she couldn’t forgive him.

After what he’d just re-lived...he wasn’t sure he could forgive himself either.


	14. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has to decide his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers! Thank you for all the love for this story!

Christmas Eve morning had arrived, and Draco was sitting in his family library reading a book on healing charms. There was a point during his fifth year he’d actually entertained the idea of becoming a Healer but with the war looming and Voldemort’s return, it had quashed that dream into smithereens.

Now, there was a very good chance he wouldn’t be fit for much of any kind of career.

After all, who would want to hire a former Death Eater regardless of the circumstances?

He’d spent the past week finishing his writings and mulling over what had happened and how he’d responded to it. It was interesting and surreal but something he’d never considered doing before...going back and watching memories. Hindsight, was a strange thing and something that could be rather profound if an individual was willing to change.

But the question that remained was—how far was he willing to go to affect real change? He was still proud to be a Pureblood and he wasn’t sure that would ever change. He’d spent so much of his upbringing having a sense of superiority due to his role as the Malfoy Heir, to automatically dismiss it.

That role had caused his subsequent indentured service into the ranks of the Dark Lord, but the truth remained, and it had been one he’d been reluctant to admit to—had it not been for the Marriage Law he would’ve done his duty to his heritage—no questions asked and married Astoria. He wouldn’t have known about the babies...not until they’d gone to Hogwarts. Or perhaps he might’ve, but he knew if his parents had discovered the truth...

Draco sat up and blanched at that thought before a violent shiver escaped down his back.

Would his Father, had he’d discovered the truth had Granger and his children eliminated?

He’d signed the contract as had his mother...

But they’d not really had a choice?

Draco pondered this for a few moments as he considered the possibilities of why his mother and father had agreed to allow his marriage to Hermione.

Fact one: The Ministry in their infinite wisdom was forcing marriages on all Purebloods to marry outside their blood status. He’d would’ve been paired with a half-blood or Muggle-born regardless.

Fact two: There was a time constraint on the mandated law, which meant that he would’ve been forced to marry rather quickly. There would’ve been no time to plot nor plan a way out of either scenario.

Fact three: They’d signed the contract. He’d forced the issue but still? His parents agreed to do so, almost without a proper fight. _Why_?

Fact four: They hadn’t spoken to him in nearly two months. Not a word. His mother, who was usually so caring in her own way...hadn’t sought him out at all. That was unusual.

Fact five: Hermione had never specifically stated that she was unwilling to live in Malfoy Manor, but he’d known deep down that she’d never set foot back in his ancestral home after everything—which meant his parents must’ve suspected it too. Were they hoping that he would stand his ground and stay here? Thereby not having to acknowledge his marriage in any meaningful way?

As Draco stood and paced, he went over everything he knew of the contract and had to wonder if there were any loopholes his parents might seek to exploit—when the truth hit him like a bludger.

Hermione had specified his parents couldn’t harm her, but the contract never indicated that someone else couldn’t do it on their behalf and knowing his Father like he did...it was likely that he’d made the same conclusion already.

Hence why he’d signed the contract without fuss.

 _Shite_!

“Mipsy!”

His nanny elf popped into the room, her big eyes staring at him in adoration.

“Yes, Master?”

“Mipsy, where are my parents?”

“They is in Master’s study.”

“Mipsy, I need you to tell me—have my parents been receiving owl post from anyone lately?”

His elves ears flapped a bit, but she shook her head. “Nots that I knows of, Master.”

Draco pondered this for a moment as Mipsy watched him pace in front of her. Their owl post on house arrest was being monitored, as was their floo activity. No one but the Aurors and Hermione had access to the Manor. They couldn’t order the elves to harm Hermione, that she’d made sure of.

“Have you heard my parents talk about the new Mistress at all? Say anything about harming the new Mistress?”

Mipsy’s ear flapped a bit more, but she shook her head. “No, Master. They comes down for meals as always and discuss house business. Then afters dinner Master and Mistress go to Masters study and the elves are not alloweds entrance.”

Draco’s face paled and he swallowed hard. His Father had a floo in his study, window for owls to come in and out. If the Ministry was monitoring as they should be it wouldn’t be an issue.  
  
But still, something wasn’t right.

Draco knelt down and said softly, “Has Father been corresponding with Gringotts at all?”

Mipsy nodded.

“Does he get owl post from Gringotts daily?”

“No Master, no owl post, but does get letter ons Saturday’s.”

Draco’s eyebrow lifted and he pondered that too.

“How is he getting the post if not by owl?”

Mipsy wrung her hands and said softly, “Tinker takes the missives back and forth for Master.”

“Shite!” Draco shook his head.

“Is Tinker taking post to anyone else for Father?”

Mipsy’s big eyes widened but she nodded. “To Miss Pansy, Master.”

Draco nodded and said gently, “Mipsy, I order you not to speak of this unless I give you permission, do you understand? Not even to the other elves?”

Mipsy nodded emphatically. “Of course, Master.”

Draco grabbed a piece of parchment and scribbled a quick note and gave it to his elf.

“Take that note to Harry Potter, Mipsy. No one else and come right back.”

“Yes Master.”

Draco watched his elf pop away and fell to the edge of his bed and sighed. He didn’t know for sure if his parents were plotting something, but from what Pansy had whispered to him on his wedding day, he didn’t doubt that she would have no issue helping his parents in removing Hermione and his children from his life.

It was about ten minutes later Mipsy reappeared with a scrap of parchment in her hands. He took it with a ‘ _thank you’_ and unfolded the missive seeing Potter’s messy scrawl.

_Malfoy,_

_I’ll see what I can find out. If you’re right, this is in direct violation of both your parents probations. You do understand what this will likely mean, if it’s discovered that they’re plotting against Hermione? I will do as you ask and keep an eye out but she’s mostly at Hogwarts and her parents. She’s taken to glamouring her stomach so no one knows about the pregnancy yet. I did get that thing you asked me to, and I will be giving it to her tomorrow at the Burrow._

_Potter_

Draco stared at the letter and sighed. He didn’t know what to do at this point. He didn’t want to lose his parents but he didn’t want to lose his wife or children either.

Deciding to venture down to his Father’s study, Draco made his way through the Manor ignoring the rumblings of the portraits as they whispered as he passed. He shook his head sadly. It would seem that in the past couple months, his parents had decided to make him persona non grata in his own home.

The thought saddened him greatly.

He loved his parents, his Mother in particular. She’d always stood by him and protected him and he, her. Draco had hoped that if it ever came down between choosing him or his Father...that his Mother would always have his back.

But that didn’t seem to be the case anymore.

He stopped near the drawing room, which was magically sealed off from the rest of the house. The Dark magic was still palpable in this part of the Manor and as he closed his eyes...he could hear his wife’s screams as she pleaded for mercy.

How she’d lied under torture he’d never know.

If she was brave enough to lie to his aunt after everything, there was no telling what she would do to protect their children from his parents and if he allowed her to come to harm, he’d be shipped off to Azkaban same as his Mother and Father.

He’d tried to talk to his Mum and get her to see reason, but Draco knew deep down his parents bigotry and hatred for Muggles and Muggleborns wasn’t something that would ever go away and if he was fully honest with himself, his own prejudices in that area weren’t clear cut either.

He knew now what he felt for Hermione was more than just lust and desire. Those last few months at Hogwarts had been some of his happiest memories. His own sense of self-loathing had reached an all time high after the War had ended but the fact that his wife had forgiven his misdeeds and had given him absolution and a second change had forced him to see her not as a mudblood, but as a witch. A good witch, with a heart of gold.

And he’d broken that heart, which was something his fourteen-year-old self would’ve applauded and lauded on top of the tallest parapet at Hogwarts.

His nineteen-year-old self wasn’t proud of his selfishness at all.

When he finally found himself staring at his Father’s study door, Draco lifted his hand to knock before dropping it to his side. This action repeated itself for about five minutes before he felt the oak wood paneling under his knuckles as he ‘tapped’ firmly on the door.

It was about another minute before the door unlocked and Draco could feel the wards of his Father’s study accept him. He pushed open the door and saw his Mother sitting on the couch with a book in her lap, while his Father was hovering over his desk in his usual spot going over parchments.

He moved in and left the door open, as he wasn’t sure just how welcome he was at the moment.

His Father didn’t look up at him, but his Mother was sitting there stiffly and she seemed a bit off.

And that, more than anything had Draco’s defenses on high alert.

“Mother, Father...”

“Draco,” his Father drawled. “What do we owe the honor of this visit?”

Standing there, Draco realized that neither one of his parents were going to offer him a seat or welcome him to stay. Which again, had him sensing something wasn’t right.

“I just wanted to come and wish you both a Happy Christmas.”

“Christmas isn’t until tomorrow.” His Father said stiffly, finally lifting his gaze to meet his son’s.

“I’m _aware_ of the date,” Draco drawled, “but I didn’t want to assume that I factored into either one of your plans come tomorrow so I just thought I’d come by this morning and wish you both a good holiday.”

Draco could see his Mother’s posture stiffen even further, and it took all of his Occlumency training to keep the panic in his gut from boiling over.

Something definitely wasn’t right.

Just then, there was a small movement out of the corner of his eye and Draco’s seeker reflexes caught it and then just as quickly dismissed it.

But inside he was _seething_.

When neither of them spoke, he nodded and turned to leave—closing the door behind him and instantly felt the wards of his Father’s study go up.

He ran upstairs as fast as he could and once he was in his room, warded it and called for Mipsy.

“Master?”

“Mipsy, I need you to find my wife and tell her she needs to come here now. Tell her it’s an emergency.”

“Of course, Master.”

Mipsy left and it was over twenty minutes of pacing on his rug in front of his window before a sound caught his attention. Mipsy had returned.

Alone.

 _Fuck_!

“I’ms sorry, Master. Mistress says she is too tired to come this morning.”

Draco growled out in anger, as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

He felt impotent and angry at himself and his circumstances.

He was angry at his parents for their refusal to bend.

He was furious at his wife for not allowing him the benefit of the doubt.

And a part of him just wanted to scream ‘fuck it’ and stay out of it.

But he couldn’t do that. Not again.

“Mipsy.”

“Yes, Master?”

Draco scribbled a quick note and then pulled the memory from his Father’s study and gave it to his elf and said, “Give this to my wife. Tell her she needs to protect herself because I can’t right now.”

Mipsy nodded and left again. It was a bit longer this time, almost an hour before she came back and this time she wasn’t alone.

Draco’s face fell in relief when he saw Hermione standing there.

“Malfoy?”

“Thank Merlin!” He smiled softly at seeing his wife’s expanding belly. “Thank you for coming.”

His voice was resigned, and Hermione could see how hard he was struggling with all this. She waddled over and moved down next to him on the couch where he’d sat their first night in his room and grabbed his hand. He wrapped his fingers around hers and squeezed back.

“I talked to Harry earlier.”

Draco nodded but couldn’t speak, lest he scream and rant at how all fucked up this had gotten.

“Malfoy?”

“Yeah?” He moved his head to the side and took in his wife’s sad expression.

“Have you talked to your parents at all?”

He shook his head and then bowed it down, swallowing deeply as he tried to get his emotions under control.

“They haven’t sought me out in almost two months. It’s like I’m a stranger.”

“I could see a bit of that in the memory you sent.”

He couldn’t look at Hermione, he couldn’t let her see how torn up he was with all this stuff happening.

“I don’t want to do this.”

He muttered and felt Hermione’s hand stiffen within his as she made to move away, but he just held onto it tighter. When he lifted his gaze, his eyes stung with unshed tears and he could see Hermione’s emotions warring with her logic.

“Do what?”

“I don’t want to make the choice I know I’m going to have to make.”

Her heavy sigh was to be expected, but she just allowed him to hold onto her hand and draw what little comfort he could.

“Did you know that your parents were in touch with Skeeter?”

He shook his head.

“Harry mentioned something about Pansy Parkinson.”

This time he nodded.

“I know the witch hates me, Malfoy, but do you really think she would do something so vile as try and harm me or our babies?”

Draco pulled his hand away and rubbed both of them down his face in consternation. He knew exactly what his former girlfriend was capable of.

“The day of our marriage, before she left? Pansy offered just that very thing. In a roundabout way.”

Hermione sat back horrified.

“What did she offer?”

“She just said that there were many old curses in her family that would make my _Muggleborn problem go away.”_

By the cold expression on Hermione’s face, he could tell she wasn’t surprised but her eyes radiated a deep hurt that he was frankly, tired of seeing.

Especially since he’d been the one more often than not—putting that pain there. At one time it had been for his own amusement, and then later it was to make sure that she hurt as much as he’d been hurting. During the War he’d been broken and desperate for any way out of the cage he’d found himself in.

Now as Draco sat there, he finally realized the cage he was in—was of his own making. He’d allowed his love and loyalty to his parents to be used against him and the saddest part? Was his own Mother and Father had taken his weakness and held it as a chain to ensure his compliance even as they withheld their complete love and acceptance for who he was.

Shaking his head, Draco felt his eyes burn again, but this time he couldn’t hold back the wretched sob that broke free from his throat. His body was shaking with the strength it was taking him to hold his emotions together and he just wanted to hide away somewhere...anywhere, so he could grieve in solitude.

Then a warm slender arm wrapped around his shoulders and for the first time since he was a small boy, Draco allowed another person to offer him comfort as he leant into his wife’s embrace and broke down.

He didn’t know how long he’d cried, nor how long Hermione had held him...all he knew was this right here, was what he wanted and needed for his future.

He lifted up his head and stared into saddened amber eyes that were filled with worry and tenderness.

It was frankly, more than he deserved.

“I’m so sorry.”

Hermione just hummed as she ran her hand through his hair, which was in desperate need of a trim.

“I know.” She replied with empathy. “I’m sorry too.”

Draco shook his head and bit out, “No! You don’t have _anything_ to be sorry for. I did this. I’ve allowed my parents to dictate my life, my choices and for what?”

There was silence as Hermione didn’t know what to say to Draco. She couldn’t imagine not having the love and support of her parents even after everything.

“You know,” she began shakily, “when I made the decision to remove myself from my parents memories and send them away...I didn’t know if I’d ever see them again. I wasn’t sure even if I survived the War and restored their memories, that they’d forgive me.”

“But they did.”

She nodded. “Yes, _eventually_. There was a bit of time where we had to find our way back to a different place. The young girl they knew before the War was not the same broken woman that found them in Australia. It took me some time to come to terms with the fact that I had to be completely open and not try and spare them the truth. I think,” she took a deep breath for courage as she looked straight into her husband’s eyes and forged ahead, “I think...that there is a part of Draco Malfoy that will always be that same boy I met the first day on the train going to Hogwarts. The one who was fiercely proud to be a Malfoy, who saw himself as superior...who didn’t have any context to the real world other than his own. But I don’t think that is the same Draco Malfoy I see sitting here next to me right now.”

Grey eyes bored into her’s as he asked emotively, “And who do you think Draco Malfoy is today?”

Hermione bit her lip as she contemplated how she wanted to go about saying what she needed to say.

Finally she just shrugged. “I think that the man before me is broken too. He understands that he picked the wrong side in the War, but in his heart he believes he did it for the right reasons. He loves his parents, but he’s come to the sad realization that everyone’s definition of love is very different. I think your parents love you, Draco...I saw them calling for you at the final Battle. Your Mother lied to Voldemort to get to you. So I know they love you.”

“But?”

She sighed and nodded. “Yes, _but_...”

Hermione turned on the couch to face Draco, and watched in amusement as he did the same. She took both his hands and squeezed them briefly before she clarified, “But...I think your parents, as much as they love you? They love their beliefs _more_. I couldn’t help but wonder if it would even be possible for you to love these children despite their blood heritage. The Draco Malfoy before the War wouldn’t have. I’m almost positive of it.”

“He probably wouldn’t have had the courage to admit he was attracted to you either. He would’ve been scared at the reactions from his peers. The taunting, the disappointment from his parents. He would’ve been a coward.” He shook his head and finished despondently, “He _is_ a coward.”

“No, he’s _not_.” Hermione disagreed half-heartedly. “He just wants someone to see him for who he is inside and not the role he’s been bound to play his entire life. I think, you can be proud of being a Pureblood and the positive traditions that come with it and still love these babies and want to be a good Father.”

“And a good husband?”

Hermione sighed. “I wasn’t your first choice, Malfoy. No matter how we...”

Draco placed a finger on his wife’s lips to shush her.

“That’s where you’re _wrong_. _For that one night you were my choice._ For once in my miserable fucked up existence, I got to choose to do something for _me_...not because my family expected it. Not because tradition demanded it, but because I _wanted_ you.”

He stood up and went over to his beside table and grabbed the journal of his little walk down memory lane, and handed it to his wife.

She stared at it with confusion.

“I spent the last month going over memories of our eighth year together, trying to figure out how I didn’t see it. How I was so blind, that I didn’t know how you felt.”

He saw Hermione’s grip on the book tighten in response as she stared down at it in shock.

“I decided to write down my thoughts and feelings. Observations too. Pretty much everything I could think of.” He smiled softly as he nudged her hand and said, “Open it.”

“Now?” Her head whipped up in surprise and Draco nodded.

“Just read the last entry.”

So she did. 

Opening the leather bound journal, Hermione flipped through the pages until she came to the last entry which was dated not too long ago.

**I didn’t think it would be like this. I didn’t think after watching these memories, I’d feel this empty inside. How does one ask for forgiveness when one isn’t worthy of it? How did I not see it, see the signs changing?  
**

**Am I really that selfish?**

**The answer is yes.  
**

**I took what I wanted that night because I was selfish. I wanted, for a brief moment in time, to feel something real. To be wanted in spite of being Draco Malfoy. I still can’t believe that you, wife—allowed me in after everything I’ve done to tear you down.**

**Have I irreparably damaged the love you felt for me?**

**Is it wrong to wish for the strength to admit to my own feelings?**

**The truth is, my wife...you’re too good for me and you always will be. I’m just the broken sod who was lucky enough to be paired with you. I would’ve married you, children or not. The crux is, I’m grateful for this damnable Law, because it gave me something I would’ve never had the courage to take for my own.**

Draco watched as Hermione read through the words, and his heart cracked when he saw the tears fill her eyes as she stared up at him after she’d finished his last entry...his journal clutched to her chest as her body wracked with the force of her breathing.

He just smiled sadly and cupped her cheek tenderly.

“I think, that it’s time for me to stand on my own two feet.”

Hermione hiccoughed and her eyes grew wide as she clutched the journal even tighter.

“I don’t want my parents to go to Azkaban.” Draco lamented with a sigh. “So I suppose that only leaves me with one choice, right?”

“Are you sure?” Whispered Hermione. “Because you need to be sure, Draco.”

He moved up again and went back into the drawer, pulling out a stack of parchment and handed it to his wife. He watched in bemusement as she read through everything, her eyes getting wider by the minute and when she was done...her expression was filled with amazement.

She really didn’t think he’d ever make this choice and for a time, he didn’t think he could either.

But now, it wasn’t so scary.

And he was done trying to pretend that his parents ideology was still his own.

It hadn’t been for a while, if he was completely honest.

“Take it to Gringotts now. Give the top letter to Gornok. He will be able to get the paperwork expedited today. Once you’re done call for Mipsy, and she will let me know. Tell Potter to be ready to come and meet me here.”

Hermione’s eyes widened as she shook her head emphatically. “No! If you do this?”

“I know what the consequences are, wife.”

“Draco...”

He gripped her cheeks and kissed her softly, which turned into a more heated kiss and he parted her lips with his tongue. After a moment he pulled back with a reluctant groan.

“ _Go_.”

She stood up and nodded, cupping his cheek one last time.

“I’ll be back for you.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, wife.”


	15. Back to Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Draco, there is no going back.

Draco waited for hours, and as he sat in his room and watched the dim light filter through his curtains, he had to wonder if he was making the right choice.

Shaking his head, he chastised himself for his doubts.

There really was only one choice he could make.

It wasn’t until nearly eight that evening that Hermione’s patronus burst into his room.

“It’s done. I’m with Harry right now.”

Draco sighed as he walked over to his bed and stared into the bag he’d packed. It had an extension charm on it and inside was most of his sentimental and precious items. He’d have Hermione keep it for him until he was done serving his sentence.

He wiped a tear at the stark realization that he’d miss the birth of his children but in this way, they’d be safe.

And he’d be _free_.

“Mipsy.” He called softly, and his tiny House elf popped in, her hands wringing in worry. “I need you to go get Harry Potter and my wife and bring them here.”

Mipsy nodded and did as instructed, and in less than a minute Potter was standing with his wife and they both looked as tired as he felt.

“How you holding up, Malfoy?”

Draco was surprised with how polite Potter’s voice sounded, but he just shrugged—picking up his bag and handing it to his House Elf.

“Mipsy, I want you to go with Hermione. You need to take care and protect her and the babies for me.”

The end of the sentence was said to his wife, who’s head was shaking in the negative.

He reached for her hands and said pleadingly, “Please take her. I can’t leave her here. She’s an excellent nanny elf and you’ll need all the help you can get when the babies are born.”

“Oh yes! Mipsy is a goods loyal elf and I woulds love to takes care of the new babies.”

Harry chuckled, and Hermione gazed up at Draco, who’s expression was literally begging.

As much as she abhorred the idea, she couldn’t say ‘ _no_ ’...not like this.

“Fine.” She mumbled and Draco bowed his head in gratitude. Hermione then pulled out the paperwork from her beaded bag, and sighed. “Are you sure?”

“I am.”

Biting her lip, she held out the stack of parchment and Draco pulled her into a gentle kiss before leaning his forehead against hers. “Wait for me?”

Her eyes filled with tears but she nodded emphatically. “I _will_.”

Draco pulled back and watched with a sad smile as Mipsy took his things, and his wife and disappeared.

Rubbing his hands down his face, Draco glanced at Potter who was smirking at him knowingly.

“I almost didn’t want to believe it.”

“Believe what, Potter?”

“You’re in love with Hermione.”

Draco gaped like a fish, but Harry just chuckled.

“What are you on about, Potter?”

Harry scoffed, but reached in his robes and pulled out his invisibility cloak.

“Fine, Malfoy...don’t admit it.”

Draco didn’t reply as he watched Potter wrap that infernal cloak of his over his body, causing him to vanish instantly.

“Stay close. My parents will be in my Father’s study.”

He didn’t see if Potter was in agreement, so Draco left his room and headed down through the Manor. As he walked, the portraits muttered and hissed a few hateful words here and there, but he couldn’t care less.

He wouldn’t be returning here again after today.

When he got to his Father’s study, he knocked and felt the wards drop allowing him and Potter to enter, and he left the door open as he didn’t want to give his Father a chance to ward the room again.

This time his parents were sitting together on the couch and when he entered, they both looked up at him simultaneously. His Father’s expression was his usual stoic mask, but when Draco’s gaze caught his Mum’s, there was an icy coolness he’d never seen before and his heart broke in two.

He was really going to lose his Mother and for the first time in his life, he wished more than anything he’d been born anyone but a Malfoy.

“Draco?” His Father drawled arrogantly. “Twice in one day?”

Draco sighed as he clutched the papers in his hand and swallowed in despair. He needed to get the words out, he just didn’t know how to do it.

“What is it?” His Mother’s gaze caught the papers in his hand. “Did you require help with something?”

From the expectant look on her face, Draco could almost see a certain interest and he had to wonder if she was hoping that he’d finally come to his senses and had researched a way out of his marriage.

“I noticed that Skeeter was here this morning.” He began and watched with a perverse sense of satisfaction both his parents flinch. “So I can only imagine why she was here.”

“Draco.” his mother replied as she patted the seat next to her, and he reluctantly moved over— wishing for a brief moment that his parents might just surprise him.

But his Mother’s next words disabused him of that notion.

“Yes, she was here but only because we think we’ve finally found a way to rid you of your marriage to Miss Granger.”

Draco nodded, not speaking as he wanted to see just how far his parents had planned to take this.

“And?”

Narcissa glanced at Lucius, who was watching his son closely—but he took Draco’s sorrowful mood as a result of the fact that they’d been distant with him.

Apparently his wife was correct that their son would eventually come to see the error of his ways if they pulled back their affections.

“Well,” Narcissa reached for his free hand and gave it a pat, “We have discovered a loophole in the marriage contract that Miss Granger had you sign and we think we can use that to your advantage.”

“I see,” Draco lifted his gaze to his mother, who’s own expression was softer than it had been earlier that day and he was desperate to hold onto that look...knowing that after this night she would never look upon him with the same tenderness again. “And what about the children?”

Lucius and Narcissa exchanged the same unreadable expression, and Draco felt his stomach drop.

He’d been right in his assumption of exactly what they’d planned to do, and he was fairly certain Pansy was in on it.

“Does this have anything to do with Pansy?” He interrupted and Narcissa’s face pulled up in surprise, while Lucius just appeared thoughtful.

“Why would you ask such a thing?” His Father inquired.

“Because,” Draco shrugged, “she mentioned offering to help at the wedding.”

“And you told her ‘ _no_.” His Mother admonished while Draco nodded, but carefully didn’t elaborate.

“Well, not to worry, my dragon...your Father and I will figure this out just like we always have.”

“Is that why you’ve ignored me for two months?” He demanded. “Why the portraits are whispering hateful things to me?”

His parents sat there stoically, but didn’t respond.

He stood up and moved to the window with his back turned to his family...so he didn’t see their mutual expressions of triumph.

But Harry did, and he felt bad for Malfoy. 

After everything the git had done, he didn’t deserve to lose his family in such a way.

“You know?” Draco began as he kept his back to his parents, “I had hoped that somehow you both might come to accept my wife and children, but I know now that’s never going to happen. So I guess I’m left to make the tough choice once again... _between my family and my future.”_

He turned around and saw his Father staring at him hard while his Mother had her head turned towards the bookshelf, not making eye contact.

Draco gazed down at the Malfoy Family ring his Father had given him right before his second year at Hogwarts, and twisted it a few times before pulling it off his finger and feeling the Malfoy Family magic leave him. He heard his Mother’s gasp and his Father’s growl, but he didn’t care. He set the ring down on his Father’s desk and took out his wand, but before he could speak the words...

...his Mother stood up and cried, “Draco, _no_! You don’t mean to throw away your family over a mudblood (she grabbed her arm and hissed) and half-blood children?”

Draco lifted his eyes in faux confusion. “But, Mum? I would be forced to marry a Muggleborn or half blood regardless—even if it wasn’t Hermione.”

“Not necessarily.” She placed her hands up placatingly. “We believe we can work that out too, Draco. You need to trust in your Father and I to know what’s best for you.”

Draco stood back and frowned, his brows furrowing heavily.

“What’s best for me?” He repeated robotically. “What’s best for me? _**For me!”**_

He started breathing heavily through his nose as he glared at his parents, finally seeing them for the first time in his life and he didn’t like what he was seeing. 

The hate and bigotry rolling off them like a wave crashing on the sand.

“You know what, Mum?” He laughed out caustically, ignoring his Mother’s face paling. “I’ve spent my whole life doing exactly that. Trusting in you and Father to make the decisions for me. To know what’s best and what I need, but the truth is all I’ve ever needed is just two parents who love me for me!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Draco!” His Father scoffed haughtily. “As the Malfoy Heir it is your duty to do what’s best for the family. For the line of Malfoy’s who come after.”

Draco swallowed as he glared angrily at his Father, before he spat out flatly, “There will be no more line of Malfoy’s after today. I renounce my name and my birthright as the Malfoy Heir.”

His mother screamed in anguish, while his Father paled and gripped his cane tightly.

“From this day forward, I will no longer be known as Draco Lucius Malfoy. I will be henceforth known as Draco Black. Lord and Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black.”

“You don’t have that right!”

His Mother screeched and Draco just smirked at her dangerously, causing Narcissa to back up slightly.

“I **do**! I am the Black Heir, which you acknowledged Mummy, when you signed that lovely little marriage contract from my wife. It was my get out of jail free card, you see. She _knew_ that you both wouldn’t let this go and would try and have her and my children eliminated somehow. But I’m not going to stand idly by and let that happen.”

“And just how do you plan to stop it?” Lucius sneered hatefully.

At that moment, Potter’s cloak dropped...his wand out and pointing at both Malfoy’s...his expression angrier than Draco had ever seen it.

“You’re lucky your son is as loyal to you as much as he is or I’d have you both rotting away in Azkaban.”

Narcissa stared at her baby boy, who was now looking at both she and Lucius with nothing but contempt. Her husband however, just snarled out, “It would seem since you’re no longer a member of this family, Draco...that your house arrest and terms of your probation are forfeited. So I suppose Mr. Potter will be taking you to Azkaban as we speak?”

“Lucius!” Narcissa lamented, but her husband just stood his ground until Potter chuckled deeply.

“Not exactly, Mr. Malfoy.” Harry smirked, “You see, since Draco is now officially a Black...his probation will be served at the Black ancestral home until June, under my direct supervision approved by the Minister himself.”

Draco gaped at Potter, who winked at him.

“Your wife insisted upon it and called in her life debt.”

“What?” Draco sputtered while his parents just stood there in shock.

“Yep,” Harry replied smugly, “as for you two,” he turned back to the Malfoy’s, “I’ve been informed by the Minister that due to recent events and having unauthorized contact with Skeeter, who is in custody as we speak and Miss Parkinson—who is also being questioned by the Aurors...the terms of your probation will be added to.”

“You can’t do that!” Lucius snarled, and Harry just folded her arms over his chest as he stared Draco’s Father down.

“I just did. Unless you’d like to take this in front of the Wizengamot? I hear Azkaban is lovely this time of year.”

“Draco!” Lucius hissed. “How could you betray your own family in such a way?”

Draco ignored his Father, but glanced at his Mother and said sadly, “You betrayed me _first_. I just wanted you both to accept my choice and love me, but clearly that was too much to ask for.”

He turned to Potter and said in defeat, “I’d like to leave now.”

He placed the copy of his documents from Gringotts on his Father’s desk and without sparing a backwards glance to either of his parents, left Malfoy Manor... _never to return._

He was surprised at how unburdened he felt as he headed for the boundary of the property with Potter—and with one final look at his childhood home, Draco Black left to start his new life.

When they’d disappeared from Malfoy Manor, and reappeared...Draco paused in shock at his surroundings. He’d only been to Grimmauld Place once that he could remember, and that had been a very long time ago. The House was still as he remembered it though, as he stared around the empty narrow hallway.

Then he heard footsteps coming down the stairs and when he looked up, he couldn’t help but smile softly at the mess of ringlet curls and an enticing pregnant stomach coming his way and without second guessing himself...Draco rushed to his wife and enveloped her into his embrace...inhaling he sweet perfume as she grasped onto his head and cradled it into her neck.

His deep breaths and shaking body were the only outward signs of his distress. He’d be damn sure he wouldn’t break down in front of Harry fucking Potter, even if he did owe the git for allowing him to stay here.

He pulled back, his eyes filled with pain as he cupped Hermione’s cheeks and leant his forehead down to hers.

“Are you okay?”

She whispered and he shrugged, not wanting to talk about it here. She seemed to sense his hesitance because she nodded to Potter and led him upstairs to wherever she’d come from.

Once they’d reached the third floor landing, Hermione pulled him into the third room on left which was rather spacious and his bag was sitting on a chaise along with another one that was probably hers.

She guided him over to the bed, and without words...pushed him down into a sitting position...removing his shoes and socks, her eyes silently checking in with him every few seconds as if she couldn’t believe he was here and she wanted to make sure he was alright.

Once he was undressed, he watched bemused as his wife removed her clothing too and cuddled into his side which he greedily pulled her into, as he continued to breathe in her calming scent. There was nothing sexual about this moment. It was filled with love, comfort and acceptance and something in his nineteen years, Draco was fairly certain he’d never been on the receiving end of.

 _Ever_.

The quiet stretched between them both for an hour at least, until he felt the need to speak.

“They were going to have you and the babies eliminated from my life, and they weren’t even the least bit sorry for it.”

Hermione swallowed as she soothed her husband’s fragile state, knowing how hard this had to be for him. She reached for his hand and placed it on her stomach...smiling softly at his gape of wonder when he felt the twins rolling under his palm.

When he lifted his gaze to her’s, his smile was blinding and she cupped his cheek lovingly at the wonder so clearly evident on his face.

She was still amazed that he’d made the decision to choose her and their children.

Hermione had hoped...no prayed, that it wouldn’t come down to this. That somehow, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy’s love for their only son and Heir would outweigh their own innate prejudices in this one instance. The fact that it hadn’t, saddened her greatly. She may have written that contract primarily as a means to protect herself and her children, but deep down she’d never wanted to force Draco to choose.

She had only desired to give him the choice that he’d never been allowed to have in his life, if he’d wanted to take it.

To choose for himself.

Selfishly, she wasn’t sad for herself. She had known from the second the match had been forced that Lucius and Narcissa wouldn’t let it go. She’d known they would in all likelihood, never accept these children she was carrying as anything other than a blight on their Pureblood heritage.

A heritage that was caustic and toxic and had cost them their son.

She had to wonder if even now, they fully understood the weight of their actions.

The contract forbid Lucius from disinheriting Draco and her children but it did allow her husband to disavow his heritage and family. By taking on the mantle of Lord Black, and making that choice for himself—the contract’s essence would cause the Malfoy Family to die out with no Heir. She had added that caveat herself, embedded just as she’d done with the hex she’d placed on Marietta Edgecombe. It was an obscure Black Family curse, that she’d found hidden in the depths of the library here at Grimmauld Place.

The entire Malfoy fortune however, would still go to Draco at the time of Narcissa and Lucius passing. He was still his Mother’s son and a Black. He couldn’t be disinherited completely.

Another little addendum she was fairly certain in their blind arrogance, they hadn’t done their due diligence on. Probably because they were certain they could find a way to get rid of her.

Hermione had no doubt that both of Draco’s parents truly believed that by withholding their affections, they could bring their son to heel and force his hand once again. But they didn’t account on his own depth of emotion towards his children and surprisingly, her.

She knew he must care for her on some level as Draco wasn’t the kind of man nor wizard to sacrifice so much of himself if he didn’t have a stronger bond to hold onto. And she probably wouldn’t have believed his motives, had she not read his journal entry.

But for now, she would just have to give him the support she could until he was strong enough to do it for himself and believe in himself...

“I know the right answer is to say, I’m sorry,” Hermione replied after a moment, “but I think what I’m sorry for is that you’re hurting. You have to know that I didn’t want it to come to this.”

Draco rolled a bit so that he was facing Hermione directly and they held hands as he stared into her despondent expression, that he was sure mirrored his own.

“I know.”

“What you did was so brave, Draco.”

He just shook his head. “No, it was necessary.”

“Sometimes the brave thing is the necessary thing.”

He just quirked his lips but didn’t reply immediately. His gaze moved around the room and scrunched a bit.

“This place is rather depressing.”

Hermione giggled. “Yes, it can be.”

“So I’m stuck here for the next six months with Potter?”

She shook her head playfully and said, “Not exactly.”

Draco’s face registered shock as he sat up and stared down at his wife, who was grinning up at him impishly. “What do you mean, wife?”

“Well, husband. Kingsley has allowed you finish your probation in our new home. Now that you’ve dissolved your relations with the Malfoy line, and have taken on the title of Lord Black...I as your wife and the new Lady Black, have the right to petition the Wizengamot for you to come and live with me in our new home.”

“What?” Draco shook his head. “What new home?”

Hermione reached up for Draco and said simply, “My Family home. The one we were married in. I’ve warded it with a fidelius, so it’s perfectly safe for us to live there. I took the liberty to have the floo set up between it, my parents home, here and Minerva’s office so I can go back and forth to Hogwarts as needed. Septima is going to allow me to finish my research from home...”

Draco didn’t wait to hear anymore as he crashed his lips to his little wife’s, pleased when she immediately responded enthusiastically.

He groaned and rolled her over him, encouraging her to straddle his hips which she eagerly did. As they snogged vigorously Draco drifted a finger down to play with his wife’s clit and felt her squirm and pant as he slowly dipped his finger inside her and was surprised that she was already wet and ready for him.

“Did you miss me?”

He murmured against her lips as he planted another kiss and she hummed happily before grabbing his erection and smirking at his groan of pleasure...

Then lowering herself onto him with a strangled moan of bliss.

“Yes, you prat.” Draco grabbed her hips and thrusted up gently, relishing in his little wife’s happy moan. “I missed you. I missed _my_ Draco. The one I fell in love with back at school.”

One hand tightened on her hip as he pulled her down to snog him with the other, letting her feel just how much he’d missed her.

And he had... _so fucking much!_

“I missed you too.”

His voice was deep as he arched his neck and watched his little minx ride him into abandon. Her curls were falling like a curtain over them both, and Draco couldn’t tear his eyes away from how utterly exquisite she looked in this moment. Her expression passionate, her eyes relieved and happy...and he felt like the luckiest fuck in the world that he hadn’t irreparably damaged their fragile bond.

It wasn’t long before they were both moaning out their mutual release and when he cast a tempus to check the time, he smiled as it had just passed midnight.

“Happy Christmas, my wife.”

“Happy Christmas, my husband.”

Feeling the pull of sleep calling to him, Draco situated Hermione’s body more comfortably in front of his as he spooned her from behind, his hand draping possessively around her abdomen and as he drifted off to slumber, he felt his children rolling underneath his palm.

And in that moment, he’d known unequivocally he’d done the right thing.


	16. A Fresh Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Day arrives.

The next morning, Draco awoke to a mouthful of curls and the sweet aroma of his wife and he simply couldn’t be happier. Her warm, soft skin and her lush arse—which was pressed up against his morning erection—served to remind him exactly how he’d woken up the day after their wedding.

But he knew this time was different.

There would be no retuning back to the Manor for him. No trying to please his parents nor worry about hurting their feelings.

No stress over being the disappointment to them that he was always made to feel.

As his hand cupped over his wife’s belly, he just couldn’t imagine how his parents could’ve been so indifferent and even horrid about his own children. Regardless of the circumstance, these babies were a part of him and therefore...they were part of them too.

Wondering how they were faring or if they even cared he was gone, wouldn’t do him a lick of good at this point.

It was all water under the bridge as far as he was concerned.

Because right at this very minute, he was more at peace than he could ever remember feeling in his life and it was ironic that the one person who made him feel this way, was the one person in the world he’d hurt the most.

The one person who’s kindness, generosity and ability to forgive was simply endless.

And he didn’t deserve her at all.

Feeling his body stirring at his wife’s breathy sighs as she continued to sleep, filled Draco with a wave of emotion. Potter’s words from the previous day flashed through his mind, and Draco had to admit he wasn’t good with discussing feelings of any kind. Yesterday had left him emotionally spent and he’d selfishly hoped, that their Christmas Day might be sedate and private.

He didn’t really want to share his wife with anyone today.

He smiled when he felt her stirring against him, her body arching instinctively into his own.

Cupping Hermione’s left breast with his right hand, Draco started kissing his wife’s neck and down to her shoulder as he gently rolled her nipple between his finger and thumb while simultaneously pushing his arousal into her backside.

It was another minute before he felt Hermione’s hand move up to cup the back of his neck as her fingers wandered through his hair.

“Is this a dream?” She murmured sleepily and Draco chuckled as he nipped at her earlobe playfully.

“No,” he breathed into her ear, “this is very much the real thing, love.”

“Hmmm,” She hummed as her body wiggled even further into his own while sighing in pleasure. “That’s good to know it wasn’t all a dream.”

Draco paused slightly as he pondered his wife’s words and he felt a smidgeon of guilt and remorse for all the hurt he’d put her through.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered lowly and wasn’t surprised when Hermione shushed him.

“Don’t,” She admonished softly, her eyes gazing back at him from over her shoulder. “You’re here and that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” She agreed readily, before wiggling herself against his hardness causing him to let out a strangled groan. “We’re wasting time, husband.”

“Is that so, wife?” Draco nipped forcefully on Hermione’s neck and grinned triumphantly when she jerked her arse into him with need.

The next hour was filled with the loud sounds of moans, groans and wet slapping skin as Draco wasted no time filling his wife with his desire over and over again.

After their third round, they both laid spent and panting on the bed, curled around each other. As he stared down into Hermione’s face, Draco felt that sense of peace wash over him as he reached out to wrap a single curl around his fingers—tugging lightly with a grin.

“What’s on the agenda for today?”

“I was thinking we’d just stay here.” She offered with a soothing touch to his cheek. “My parents mentioned they’d stop by later on this afternoon for dinner, but for now...I hope you’re not too displeased at just spending the day abed.”

Pulling her into his side firmly, Draco kissed Hermione’s temple in gratitude. “Not at all, in fact I’d prefer it.”

“That’s what I figured.”

Silence reigned for a bit until Hermione turned slightly and propped her chin up on his chest and he looked down to wide amber eyes that were openly considering him.

They were filled with questions he wasn’t sure he was ready or able to answer.

But to his great surprise, Hermione didn’t seem eager to pursue whatever was on her mind, all she said was, “Whenever you’re ready to talk to me about what happened, I’ll be here to listen.”

Draco sighed but nodded slowly. 

“I appreciate that. I just don’t know how to process all of it yet. I’m sure the fallout is going to be tremendous and I just want to make sure you and the babies are safe.”

“I know, and I don’t plan to do much but go from here to Hogwarts. I’ve purposefully stayed away from Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. Despite the Marriage Law, people have their opinions and I’d rather not deal with small-minded individuals right now.”

Draco sat up and took her with him, rearranging them more comfortably. “Has it been tough?”

“Not especially, although there are some within Slytherin House especially amongst the older set, who seem to still have a fair bit of prejudiced views. But there are those who see my marrying you as a betrayal to my side too. It’s all so ridiculous that I hardly give it much thought.”

“I’m sor...”

Hermione’s shook her head, placing her index finger to his lips to halt his words.

“Draco, there’s much that you have to atone for but other people’s prejudices aren’t one of them. Perhaps in time, things will settle. I’d imagine there will be those who see your choice to disavow your heritage as the ultimate betrayal, just as I’m sure there will be those who will look upon the act with sympathy and admiration. We can’t change what’s happened, but we can decide how we’re going to react to it and how we deal with it together.”

He just nodded, knowing in his heart and mind that Hermione was correct. They had no control over other people’s opinions and frankly, Draco couldn’t care less anymore what anyone of his so-called friends thought about his choice.

But it did make him wonder for a split second if Blaise and Theo had known about his parents keeping in contact with Pansy and if they’d offered their help as well.

That thought made him frown heavily.

“What?”

Draco blanched at his wife’s look of confusion and concern.

“I was just wondering if Theo or Blaise were...” his voice dropped off but Hermione’s quick mind finished his train of thought.

“In on it with Pansy?”

“Yeah, and my parents.”

“Are they closer with you or Pansy?”

Draco thought about it and shrugged. “Blaise and Pansy don’t really get along all that well but she and Theo were betrothed before this marriage law came into effect.”

“Shite.”

“Yeah, that was my thought too.”

“I don’t know exactly if Pansy is still in Auror custody, but I do know that Harry and Ron were the ones who arranged to have her home searched and had her taken in for questioning. But I don’t know much else.”

“Do you think they would know?”

“Probably.”

Draco sighed as he stared off over his wife’s shoulder, deep in thought.

After a while he just murmured sadly, “Tomorrow. It can wait until then, right?”

Hermione nodded, pulling him down with her and cuddling into his side as she agreed.

“Tomorrow.”

The rest of the day was spent making love and talking about her Mastery. It was if they both knew that they weren’t quite ready to face the cold reality that the ensuing days would bring. When they finally showered and dressed to head downstairs to make dinner, they were eventually joined by her parents, who had come through the floo with Harry in tow as he’d brought over the gift that Draco had asked him to get for Hermione.

He was quick to mention that he didn’t know much and wouldn’t until tomorrow but he’d floo over the next day once all the questioning was done. Draco did mention about Pansy and Theo’s former relationship, which had Harry promising he’d look into it.

Helen moved over to embrace her daughter, wishing her a Happy Christmas before standing in front of her son-in-law, who was watching both she and her husband with a guarded expression on his face.

“Happy Christmas, Draco.”

The young man smiled shyly and replied, “Happy Christmas, Mrs. Granger.”

Placing her hand gently on the young lad’s forearm, she gave it a brief squeeze and then said softly, “Call me Helen dear. We are family after all, yes?”

Hermione watched Draco swallow several times and blink rapidly as he nodded his agreement. Her Father then came over and patted him on the shoulder before absconding with her mum so they could work on dinner.

“Do you want some help, Mum?”

“No, I think your Father and I can manage. Why don’t you both go and rest up a bit and I’ll come get you when dinner is ready.”

“Okay.”

Grabbing Draco’s hand, she led him back to their room but not before he grabbed a package off the table that Harry had left and took it with them.

“What’s that?”

Draco sighed as he waited until they were alone before handing his wife the gift. Her expression was surprised, but there was also a tinge of embarrassment too.

“It’s for you, for Christmas.”

“Oh!” Hermione shook her head. “I didn’t...”

“It’s fine, Hermione. I think being here with you is probably the best Christmas gift I could’ve hoped for.”

They sat down on the bed together and Hermione fiddled with the paper before slowly tearing open the small package. Her breath caught when she saw the book inside.

“How?”

Draco ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. “When I was rewatching the memories of us eighth year, I noticed you had an old worn paperback copy of this novel and I thought you might like to have a first edition for your collection.”

Draco watched Hermione grip the book into her chest as tears welled in her eyes at the thoughtful gift.

“I love it. Thank you, Draco.”

“You don’t have to thank me. If anything, it’s I who should be thanking you. You never cease to amaze me with your ability to put the past behind you, to forgive and be the better person. I have to admit, I don’t have a lot of experience in that arena, but I’m willing to try for you.”

Her expression was warm as she leant over and kissed him softly.

When she pulled back, she cupped his cheek in her hand and smiled when he tilted his head into the gesture.

“I think the Draco Malfoy before me has the ability to be anything he wants to be and I’m looking forward to seeing what he chooses to do with it.”

“I just hope I don’t disappoint you or our children.”

“You won’t,” Hermione insisted, “because I won’t let you and your much stronger than you’ve ever given yourself credit for.”

Draco pulled his wife into his embrace and rearranged them more comfortably on their bed. As he was about to drift off to sleep, he heard his wife mumble softly, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” He murmured, as sleep took them both.


	17. Common Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione finally find their way.

The rest of Christmas had been relatively pleasant for Draco spending it with his in-laws. They seemed to innately understand that he was not very talkative, that he was emotionally spent and gave him the space he needed, but were still polite and kind.

After everything he’d done to their daughter and all the ways in which he’d hurt Hermione, he didn’t understand how they could be so accepting of his role in Hermione’s life.

His wife, had stayed close during dinner and into the evening. They’d fallen asleep nestled into each other’s arms and had woken up spooned together perfectly...then made love until it was time for breakfast.

It wasn’t until several days later, that Potter had come over with the Weasel and Potter handed him that morning’s copy of the Daily Prophet.

And Draco’s heart sank into his chest as the words jumped out on the page...

_**Malfoy Heir No Longer  
By: Romilda Vane** _

__

_**In an unexpected turn of events, it has come to this reporters attention that on the Eve of Christmas, former Death-Eater and now husband of Gryffindor’s Golden Girl and Brightest Witch of the Age...has renounced his place as Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy.** _

_**The Wizengamot, in a closed session yesterday morning...were given testimony that Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy in secrecy, plotted to remove the new Mrs. Malfoy permanently from the Ministry-mandated matrimony with their son, Draco Lucius Malfoy.** _

_**Rita Skeeter, who was brought in for questioning along with the former Pansy Parkinson, (now Pansy Finch Fletchley), has been formally charged for conspiring with the Malfoy’s, for helping to violate the Malfoy’s probation and for being an unregistered animagus. Mrs. Finch-Fletchley will be arraigned tomorrow in front of the Wizengamot for her role in the conspiracy as well as the subsequent cursing of her husband.** _

_**It is unclear just what role the former Malfoy Heir played in this scenario. Word has come down through Gringotts that Mr. Malfoy has taken on the legal surname of Black as well as the Lordship of that Noble House. Does this leave the Malfoy Family without a proper heir? The terms of his probation and house arrest are now being overseen by his wife, the new Lady Black.** _

_**We at the Prophet have to wonder if Lord Black will be called in to testify against his parents and former girlfriend? Was he the one responsible for uncovering the plot to harm his**_ **_wife and decided to make the brave decision to stand by her and if rumor is to be believed, their unborn children._ **

**_Was that the impetus for the Malfoy’s trying to harm their daughter-in-law?_ **

**_Do old prejudices run so deep that Lord and Lady Malfoy would see their unborn grandchildren dead before accepting half-blood progeny into their already tainted line?_ **

**_We here at the Prophet will keep you appraised of the ongoing developments as they continue to unfold. For now we wish the new Lord and Lady Black and their emerging family all the very best for a safe and happy pregnancy._ **

Draco handed the news article to his wife, who stared at it with an incredulous look.

How in the world did they find out about the children?

Sighing in resignation, she set the paper gently down on the kitchen table and took Draco’s hand in hers...feeling his distress.

“What’s going to happen to Draco’s parents?”

Harry sat down and glanced briefly at the entwined hands on the table before he shrugged.

“Pansy will have to give testimony, but it’s really pro forma at this juncture. She was given Veritaserum and confessed to using some kind of obscure curse on Justin. Luckily, we got him to St. Mungo’s and the countercurse was administered in time. It was draining his magical core. A few more months and he’d have been dead.”

Draco shook his head in disgust. “She offered to do the same for me.” He tilted his head down in anger, clenching his jaw. “My guess was that Justin was a test run. If it worked?”

“Then Hermione would’ve been next.” Ron finished with a sneer.

Draco didn’t reply and he didn’t need to. It was fairly self-explanatory what the endgame would’ve been.

“And my parents?”

“There was no way to keep them out of this. They will go in front of the Wizengamot probably right after the first of the year. My best guess? Your Mother’s House arrest will be added onto. Maybe another five years? Her wand will either be confiscated, or monitored. As for your Father? Due to his past transgressions, best case scenario he will suffer the same fate as your Mum. Worse case? He’ll go back to Azkaban.”

Draco nodded and then stood up, leaving the room for a few moments to head upstairs...not seeing the looks of confusion on everyone’s faces. When he came back down, he had a stack of parchment in his hand which he gave to Harry.

“What’s that?” Ron demanded lowly and Draco just glowered for a moment then sighed in defeat.

“It’s a list of all the members of the Wizengamot that my Father bribed this last time around to save himself from Azkaban. He didn’t believe my Mother would need the help, as she’d saved Potter’s arse and I was basically left to fend for myself because he didn’t seem to think that I’d be treated harshly due to my age at the time I was marked.”

Potter and Weasley both blanched in shock, but it was Hermione who spoke out.

“He couldn’t have known that, though?”

“Maybe?” Draco hummed, “But as you can see from the list, there are many people who owe my Father favors. Some he has blackmail on, others he bribed.”

Harry looked over the list and his eyes widened comically as he sputtered out, “Malfoy, this is over a third of the existing Wizengamot members?”

Draco smirked and nodded. “The information is all there, or at least what I could remember of it. What he paid to whom, what information he has against whom. If Shacklebolt really wants to reform the Ministry from the inside, this is as good of a place to start as any.”

Harry just stared back at him, almost impressed in spite of how he felt personally about the ferret.

“Does Lucius know you have this information?”

Draco thought about it, and slowly shook his head. “My Father has never given me credit for being as Slytherin as he is. But I’ve paid attention, and listened when he thought I wasn’t. I’m sure there’s more out there than this...but for now it’s all I can offer.”

Harry nodded, pocketing the parchment with a small smile. “I’ll take this to Kingsley immediately. He may want you to come in and verify a few things.”

“Sure,” Draco drawled, “what difference does it make? I’ve lost my parents and whether you lot agree that it’s for the best? They’re still my parents and I didn’t want them to suffer, but that doesn’t seem to be an option now.”

The Golden Trio watched sadly as Malfoy stood and walked out of the room, stunned and saddened.

“I can’t imagine how hard this must be for him.” Harry offered quietly, and Hermione nodded.

“He won’t talk about it. At least not yet, but I know it’s got to be eating him up inside.”

“I just can’t believe that he decided to protect you and the babies,” Ron admitted sheepishly, “I didn’t think the ferret had it in him.”

“Ronald...” Hermione’s voice held a warning edge, causing her best friend to blush in apology.

“Ron doesn’t mean anything bad, Mione...I think he’s just shocked. We all are, frankly. Even Kings was stunned when I told him what was happening. But I just want to inform you that there’s a really good chance Malfoy might get his probation reduced if this pans out.”

“I don’t think that’s going to make him feel any better, Harry. He’s lost his parents, and speaking from experience, I’m not sure if that’s something you can ever really get over.”

“You don’t think he’ll hold it against you, do you?” Ron asked worriedly.

“I’d like to think not, but the truth is if it hadn’t been for me getting pregnant and our subsequent marriage, Malfoy would’ve married Astoria Greengrass with none the wiser about these babies.”

“You’d have kept it a secret?”

“Most likely.” She admitted with a sigh, ignoring the disapproving glare from her red-headed best friend. “The Marriage Law forced my hand, and at the time I did what I needed to do as far as protecting myself and these babies, and Merlin help me, I’d do it again. I just wish that Draco’s parents could’ve found it within their hearts to be more accepting. I can’t imagine that they’d ever thought he would’ve made the choice he did.”

“That’s a given.” Harry agreed readily. “The Draco Malfoy before the War would’ve never gone against his parents.”

“No, I don’t think he would have.”

“Well, Ron and I should get back to the Ministry and show this information to Kings. I’ll let you both know what he says and keep you in the loop.”

“Thanks, Harry.”

Hermione hugged her friends and watched them floo away, before she made her way back upstairs to her room with Draco.

When she walked inside, she saw him sitting in the bay window, staring out over the gazebo where they’d had their wedding reception.

“You okay?”

She whispered, as she moved towards him but he didn’t turn to face her...only held out his hand which she took without hesitation before he resettled them both more comfortably on the large seat.

“No, but I will be.”

Silence pervaded for a while, before Hermione felt compelled to inquire...

“Why did you give that information to Harry?”

More silence.

It was at least fifteen minutes before Draco spoke and when he did his voice was thick with emotion. Something that in all the years she’d known him? 

Hermione never believed him capable of.

“I wish I could give you a clear cut answer, but I can’t. I honestly wanted to believe that my parents would accept our children and my marriage to you. I know it wasn’t what they’d envisioned for my future, and I’ve spent my entire life trying to please them it’s true. But this? I know my Father and Mother, and I know what they’re capable of. I suppose it was to send a message. I am going to be seen as a blood traitor now...there’s nothing for it. I’ve spent my whole life being proud of the name Malfoy until the War and everything that happened. I have a chance for a new start, but I also need to make sure you and our children are safe. I can’t get over the fact that they were going to have you and our babies killed. Of all the things I’ve forgiven my parents for? This was the one thing I couldn’t.”

“So this was revenge?”

Draco shrugged. “This was me making a choice and trying to get the point across to them that their actions have consequences. _Real ones._ My Father would continue to maneuver and manipulate as any good Slytherin would, and eventually he’d find a way to retaliate. It’s just who he is. With this? He won’t be able to.”

“And your Mother?”

More silence and it was a few minutes later, Hermione heard Draco sniffles softly behind her. She tilted up her head to look behind her, and her heart broke at the wetness in her husband’s eyes as well as his expression of despair.

“I _love_ my Mum,” Draco whispered sadly, “and I would’ve done anything to protect her, save kill Dumbledore. She was the most important person in my world and I mistakenly thought I was that for her. But I was _wrong_. It’s hard to admit to yourself that your parents love isn’t unconditional. That they could so easily withhold their affections from me to try and coerce me into doing what they wanted, makes me wonder if they ever really loved at all.”

Turning around, Hermione grasped Draco’s hands in hers as she shook her head emphatically.

“They love you, Draco.” At his scoff, she squeezed his hands tighter. “I’m sure of it. They were both frantic to find you during the Battle of Hogwarts. Your Mother lied to Voldemort to get to you but sometimes, our definition of love and another person’s, even our parents? Don’t always coexist in the ways we need it to. I think you have so much love to give, and perhaps you’ve never felt safe enough to express it. We have two children who will need their Father to be able to give that to them. To love them unconditionally, and I think you’ve proven that you do. You put their needs ahead of your own. _You chose them.”_

“And _you_.”

He smirked slightly and Hermione blushed, her eyes falling away in uncertainty, but Draco wasn’t having any of it. He pulled her onto his lap and cupped her face within his hands as his stormy grey eyes bored into hers.

“Look, I know you believe that the only reason I chose to do this with you was because of our children, and I know that my actions might’ve given you that impression? But...the truth is far more complicated than that. Our last year at school, I never intended to act on the feelings that were growing between us. When I watched through those memories of that time, I realized belatedly that there was so much I hadn’t seen. Maybe I chose not to? Or maybe I was just an idiot, it’s hard to know.”

“I’m going to vote for the latter.” Hermione quipped with a smile, and Draco snorted, but his lips quirked up so he wasn’t too offended.

“Story of my life so far.” He replied half-serious, half-joking.

“Did you hate me?”

Draco thought about it and shrugged. “There was a time, I’d seriously thought I did. You were always better in our classes than I was, and it angered me that no matter how hard I tried? I couldn’t seem to beat your scores. Then the War happened, and all that I’d been taught as truth seemed to be built on a shaky foundation. The things I witnessed...the cruelty and viciousness of the Dark Lords followers? I might’ve been a bully, but I don’t think I was ever in that league of just pure...”

“Hatred?”

Draco nodded—although secretly he was unsure if anyone but himself would agree with his own assessment of his former personality.

“You were rather vile and cruel at times, Draco.”

His face shuttered and Hermione could tell he felt regret and remorse for those actions.

“I know.” He murmured. “And nothing I can say will undo the past.”

“No, but it’s in the past and you have to learn to let it go and try to forgive yourself.”

“Have you forgiven me?”

Hermione just cupped his cheek and nodded.

“I have. It wasn’t easy, and there are times that I wonder if you’ll regret walking away from your parents and blame me or our children.”

“I’d never do that!” His voice was resolved, “Hermione, you have to believe that.”

“Part of me already does.”

“And the other part?”

“Knows that the only thing that will fix what we’ve broken is time. Time to heal and move forward.”

“You really believe that?”

“I do,” Hermione’s voice was gentle and soothing. “I believe you’re worth it.”

Draco felt his chest tighten, and the emotions he’d spent years locking away burst forth as tears fell down his cheeks at the open and honest expression on his wife’s face.

Not even his parents had ever made him feel as if he was worth such love and consideration.

No wonder he was so screwed up.

He watched Hermione’s expression morph to one of sympathy and worry, as she wiped his tears away with loving concern.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He whispered out on a broken sob and Hermione just shook her head.

“Everyone _deserves_ love, Draco. It’s not something you have to keep earning over and over again, at least not at the expense of your own happiness and sanity.”

“You love me?”

“Merlin help me, but I do.” She admitted with a shrug. “I didn’t want to, believe me. There were nights I’d lay awake in my dorm room actively trying to talk myself out of it, but...”

“I love you, too.” He interrupted, and almost choked out a guffaw at his wife’s gobsmacked expression.

She clearly wasn’t expecting that admission from him.

“You’re _serious_?” She breathed out in wonder, and Draco just chuckled and nodded.

“More than.”

The next thing he knew, his wife’s lips were pressed down heatedly on his own, and his own response was immediate as he kissed her back with all the pent up emotion in his heart.

As he rolled her underneath him, he pulled back slightly and broke the kiss...smiling down at Hermione’s countenance that was filled with awed happiness.

“You didn’t think I’d ever say it, did you?”

She just swallowed heavily and shook her head, causing Draco’s gut to clench at how vulnerable she appeared in that moment.

“I’m so sorry, love.”

“Don’t,” she pleaded emotively, “we need to heal and move forward. I’m willing to start fresh if you are?”

“Whatever you want.”

And then he kissed her again and finally allowed his fractured heart to heal from all the pain and loss the last few years had wrought upon his soul.

Draco didn’t know what the next few weeks would bring, but he did know that Hermione was the strongest witch he’d ever known and there was no way in Salazar, that she’d ever let him fall or fail her again.


	18. Ministry v. Malfoy...Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trial of Lucius and Narcissa begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you’re all well, staying safe and healthy! Scary times it’s true, but hopefully this too shall pass...Prayers and Hugs to all!

The day of his parents trial found Draco and Hermione standing outside the courtrooms that led into the Wizengamot chamber. The articles in the Prophet had been non-stop since it had been reported on his renouncing the Malfoy birthright and his taking on the mantle of Lord Black. Hermione had stayed with him at their new home, tending to his needs and being a supportive wife, which was more than he frankly deserved. He still hadn’t openly discussed his feelings in detail, but she seemed to understand and didn’t press him to reveal more than he was ready.

He blatantly ignored the other people standing outside the courtroom, as he kept his arm firmly around his wife’s expanding waistline—which was now clearly visible. They hadn’t confirmed the pregnancy with the twins, but he was fairly certain that the speculations would being again in earnest after their appearance today.

If the blatant stares and hushed whispers were anything to go by, it was a blessing in disguise that he was still under house arrest. Maybe by the time his probation was over—the busybodies of the Wizarding World would have moved on to something more interesting than his personal life.

And the larger fact was simply, that Draco was absolutely dreading seeing his parents again—his mother in particular.

Neither one had attempted to contact him in the ensuing days after he’d left the Manor for good, and he didn’t expect them to. His mother had proven she was unwilling to take his side against Lucius and frankly, he didn’t know who was more to blame in the scheme they’d cooked up to hurt Hermione and his unborn children.

He’d likely get those answers today.

Or not.

He wasn’t sure it mattered anymore.

Pansy had been arraigned and her testimony had exposed a large loophole within the legal language of the Ministry Marriage Law. No bride nor groom, nor those members of their immediate family— could bring harm to a Ministry chosen partner, but that didn’t stop another not related of blood, to do the deed.

The trick was finding someone within Pureblood circles that wasn’t in some way—distantly related by blood.

That was why he’d been shocked when Potter and Weasley had come to visit the afternoon following Pansy’s testimony and found out that it had been Blaise, and not Theo who’d had helped her with her little scheme.

Theo thankfully, had been unaware but Blaise had been brought in for questioning. The outcome of that Draco didn’t know, nor did he care to.

As if she could feel the tension radiating off him, Hermione ran her hand soothingly up and down his back in small circles. He pulled her even tighter into his side and sneered at anyone who looked his way.

When the door finally opened to the chamber, Draco held Hermione back and waited until everyone else had entered before moving them forward into the large circular chamber. The seats were nearly completely filled, both by the members of the Wizengamot and the area for the press and interested bystanders.

_Fucking gossipmongers!_

Potter came over quickly and led them to a seating area between he and Percy Weasley. Sitting behind them was Arthur Weasley, Augusta Longbottom and his Aunt Andromeda. Her presence was likely due to his taking on the Lordship of House Black. Even though she’d been disowned by her Uncle Orion, it was likely she’d be asked her opinion on his acknowledgement of taking ownership of their family house.

Arthur Weasley was also a Black through his Mother, so it was likely he’d be asked his opinion too.

Potter as well, since his Grandmother was a Black.

At that moment the inner chamber door opened at Draco stiffened as the Minister walked in followed by several Aurors...the Weasel amongst them leading his parents and their solicitor into the courtroom.

A single glance and nod from Potter let Draco know that his information had been put to use, and he sat back...wondering absently just how angry his Father was going to be when he realized that he held no more sway amongst the members within this chamber.

And his galleons were worthless.

The only part that hurt was that his Mother was going to be collateral damage, regardless of circumstance.

He refused to look their way, and kept his attention solely on Hermione, who was glaring at his parents enough for the both of them.

Then he heard Shacklebolt speak.

“We are here this day on January 3rd, 2000 to take testimony in the case of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Both are being charged of violating the terms of their probation and stand accused of sedition and willful conspiracy against Ministry mandate 4276...the Marriage Law of 1999. They stand accused of conspiracy to commit the murder of one Hermione Jean Black and her unborn children.” The crowd gasped in the back, the Minister confirming the truth of his wife’s condition. “They stand accused of abetting and aiding Rita Skeeter as an unregistered animagus and used that knowledge for their own personal gain.”

Kingsley addressed the Malfoy’s solicitor. “How do the defendants plead?”

“Not guilty, Minister.”

A whisper of a smirk crossed Shacklebolt’s face, but it was gone before it began as he turned to Gawain Robards, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

“Do you have any witnesses to call for the prosecution?”

“I’d like to call, Mister Harry James Potter.”

Harry stood up and made his way over to the witness stand and was immediately sworn in by magic, before the questions started in earnest.

“Mr. Potter,” Robards began smoothly, “please tell the Wizengamot members the events that followed after Lord Black (Draco saw both his parents bristle from the corner of his eye), contacted you on the day of December 24, 1999?”

Harry cleared his throat and spoke up, his voice clear and firm.

“I was advised by Lady Black, who had been in contact with her husband, that he’d discovered Lord and Lady Malfoy’s plan to have she and her children eliminated.”

“And did she say how that was to happen?”

“No, only that she needed me to come with her to Malfoy Manor, which I did.”

“And then what happened.”

“I met with Lord Black, and he told me of his plan to renounce his status as presumptive heir to the House of Malfoy and why. I followed him under my invisibility cloak into Lord Lucius Malfoy’s study. I watched unimpeded, the conversation between Lord Black and his parents.”

“And have you submitted that memory into evidence?”

“I have done so.”

“Could you please, for the court...tell us what you witnessed that evening?”

“I followed Lord Black into Lucius Malfoy’s study. Both Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were there. Draco confronted his parents, about several things actually. They’d ignored him for several months following his marriage to Hermione. When Draco asked them if the purpose of them withholding their affections was to force him to choose between them and Hermione due to the contract she’d had them sign prior to his marriage? They didn’t deny it.”

“Did they verbally confirm it, Mr. Potter?” Augustus Avery, Lucius solicitor demanded.

“Not in so many words, but their expressions were smug and pleased. Draco’s back was to Lucius and Narcissa so he didn’t see their faces, but I did.”

“But you don’t know that’s what they were thinking?”

“If you’re asking about my capacity for legilimency, then do so...Mr. Avery.”

The crowd tittered, while Lucius sneered.

“Very well. Are you an accomplished legilimens, Mr. Potter?”

“Not as such.”

“So you couldn’t read their thoughts.”

“Other than what was openly showing on their faces, no.”

Hermione smirked and even Draco was impressed with Potter’s logic. He could tell just by glancing quickly around the courtroom, most of the expressions were amused.

Augustus, gestured for Robards to continue.

“What happened after that?”

“Draco asked his mother if they’d been in contact with Miss Parkinson...well, now Mrs. Finch-Fletchley.”

“And did Narcissa Malfoy confirm that she had?”

“Yes, and Rita Skeeter too. Draco had noticed a beetle that morning when he’d come to speak to his parents and contacted Hermione and I immediately.”

“And how did Lord Black know it was Rita Skeeter?”

Harry lifted an eyebrow at Augustus Avery, who’s question was rather hostile.

“I don’t know if he did or not, he might’ve been bluffing for all I know but whatever his knowledge for or against Miss Skeeter’s animagus form...Narcissa Malfoy admitted that it was Skeeter and that they were in cahoots with her.”

“To what end?”

Harry scoffed. “I don’t know, Mr. Avery? That woman has been known to be a less than stellar reporter and more of a journalistic hack when it comes to printing the truth and I’m not a mind reader, remember?”

A few more chuckles were heard, and even Robards cracked a grin.

Avery looked _incensed_.

“What happened then?” Robards asked after a moment.

“Draco confronted his parents with the fact that he’d intended to not go along with their plans and I revealed myself. He renounced his status as Heir to House Malfoy and then told his parents he’d be taking on the mantle of Lord Black.”

“And what was their reaction?”

Harry scowled. “Narcissa Malfoy told Draco he didn’t have that right.”

“I see,” Robards moved over closer to the accused, “and what did Lord Black say to his mother’s assertion.”

“He told her that due to the contract that Lady Black had both she and Lucius Malfoy sign prior to his marriage to Hermione, that the contract expressly forbade either one of them of disowning him as either a Malfoy or a Black.”

The crowd erupted in shock and many people were staring openly at Draco and Hermione, some in confusion, others suspicion.

“Why would Lady Black have done such a thing? Was this something she plotted with her husband?” Avery snarled.

Harry grinned. “Actually, it was due to the fact that Lady Black was already pregnant with twins and wanted to make sure that no one in her new family would hurt her nor her children. The addendum to Ministry Law 4276 was argued in this very chamber by Lady Black. She knew she was pregnant with twins at that time and fully intended to use that loophole to prevent her subsequent forced Marriage to the then...Draco Malfoy.”

“So why did she change her mind?” Robards asked, as the crowd was now waiting with baited breath for the answer.

Harry looked over at Hermione, and she just smiled and nodded.

“Because as much as she didn’t trust the Malfoy’s after what had happened in their home during the war, she wanted her children to grow up with their father. But...she needed to make sure she was protected first and based on the conversation I heard that night...she had every right to be concerned. Narcissa Malfoy confirmed that they had and I quote... _found a loophole._..in the contract.”

“And did she state what this loophole was?”

“She’d mentioned Pansy Parkinson, and Draco confirmed that Pansy had made him the offer on his wedding day to help him get rid of Hermione. Something he did not take her seriously at that time, nor agree to at all.”

“Just one final question, Mr. Potter? What was Lord Black’s demeanor when the conversation was over?”

Harry glanced at Draco, but the blonde just stared blankly at him not giving an ounce of emotion away.

“He was understandably disappointed and devastated.”

Robards nodded, and gestured to Avery who just waved him off but when Harry was about to stand, Augustus asked spitefully, “Do you take issue with the former Draco Malfoy taking Lordship over the Ancient and Noble House of Black? It’s my understanding that your godfather, Sirius Black left the ancestral home to you when he died as well as the vaults?”

Harry glowered angrily, but retorted emotionlessly, “It’s true that I was left Black Manor as well as Sirius personal vault that was given to him by his Uncle, Alphard Black. The main Black vaults were not his to bequeath to me as he’d been disowned by his family. Draco has the rightful claim to the title of Lord Black as well as the Black Family vaults. I don’t contest his claiming of the Title nor the vaults.”

“But you do contest him taking ownership of the ancestral home?”

Harry’s face pinched in confusion for a moment, unsure of where Avery was going with this...but knowing that there was something specific he was fishing for if he was asking this leading question.

Then it hit him!

_The Black Family tree._

Ah! Sneaky!

“No, I don’t contest it. If Lord Black wishes to lay claim to the Black Family Manor, I’d have no problem giving it to him.”

Draco blanched and Hermione smiled widely at her best friend as she heard Arthur breathe out a sigh that sounded relieved, while Meda just chuckled.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy however, were highly displeased.

“That will be all, Mr. Potter.”

Harry nodded and took his seat.


	19. Ministry v. Malfoy: Part Two...Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco testifies at his parents trial.

The room fell quiet as Robards called his final witness to the stand. All eyes were on Draco as he sauntered down to the witness area and took his assigned spot, before being magically sworn in.

He refused to look at either of his parents. He didn’t need to actually see their faces to feel the disappointment and betrayal radiating off them. He’d seen their particular expressions one to many times throughout his life and he’d be buggered, if he was going to give either one of them another chance to make him feel like an utter failure.

“Lord Black, please tell the Wizengamot your parents reaction when you were assigned Hermione Granger as a Ministry-mandated spouse?”

“They were displeased.”

“And you?”

“Shocked at first, and I will admit I didn’t quite handle the news well myself.”

“Why was that?”

“My parents had arranged my marriage to Astoria Greengrass in my fifth year. When the Marriage Law came out and the mandate made it so all betrothals were vacated, my Parents were still convinced that they held enough sway to find me at least a Half-Blood match.”

“And your response?”

“I didn’t want that.”

“And why was that?”

Draco glanced at his wife, and she nodded.

“Hermione and I had an intimate relationship prior to our graduation from Hogwarts. I had developed feelings for her during that time.”

“Even though you were betrothed to another?”

“Yes.”

There were a few mumblings coming from the crowd at his confession.

“Did you intend to vacate the betrothal contract due to your affair with Miss Granger?” Avery asked, and Draco shook his head.

“No.” He paused and then forged on. “My parents have always made it clear what was expected of me. I was _expected_ to be top of my class, I was _expected_ to take the Dark Mark and serve the Dark Lord to bring honor to my family, I was _expected_ to marry a Pureblood witch and sire a Pureblood Heir. Anything less than this, I was viewed as a _disappointment_.”

The crowd quieted at the confession and Draco just stared at Avery mutinously.

“I loved my parents, but that depth of feeling didn’t extend the other way, I’m afraid. When I told them I’d intended on marrying Hermione and acknowledging the children she was carrying as mine own, at first they seemed reluctantly supportive. It was only later on I realized that was not the case.”

“Tell me about the betrothal contract Miss Granger had you and your parents sign.”

“It was a fairly standard contract with several caveats. There was some Old Black Family language in the contract too, which I assumed she’d been privy too due to her proximity to the library at Black Manor. There was protections built into the contract that forbade a direct member of the Malfoy or Black families from harming her or our children. The derogatory term for Muggleborn could also not be used.”

“And what would happen if this term was used?” Avery demanded with a cruel smile.

“The offender would receive a scar on their person temporarily. I do believe it was meant as a deterrent and nothing more.”

“And did any of your family members break this taboo?” Robards smirked and Draco nodded.

“My Father. Just before the wedding.”

“How long did the scar last for at that time?”

“A few days.”

Robards nodded and moved over to block Draco from the direct line of his parents.

“Were you surprised that your parents agreed to sign the contract?”

“ _Yes_. They both signed it without much fuss, which I had thought odd at the time but didn’t give it anymore thought until a few weeks ago.”

“Tell me, Lord Black? How was your parents demeanor from the time of your wedding to the time you left Malfoy Manor?”

“They basically ignored me,” Draco swallowed heavily. “I had spent weeks drinking myself into a veiled stupor, and it had gotten so bad that my personal House Elf sought out Hermione who came and took care of me.”

“How long did this period last?”

“I don’t know exactly but maybe five weeks.”

A few gasps were heard and Draco tilted his head down to get his warring emotions under control.

“What happened then?” Robards asked kindly.

“Hermione and I had a frank conversation and it made me realize for the first time in my life, what my actions and inactions had wrought upon me as a person. I had spent my whole life letting my parents choose for me, and never questioning _why_ my previous views were wrong. The War had changed me, but I still couldn’t disappoint my parents and their demands for my future. I’d already been made to feel a failure for not killing Dumbledore, for not finishing top of my class, for not seeing the prejudices of their Pureblood doctrine as truth.”

“On Christmas Eve, when you went to speak with your parents, could you tell the court what happened that day?”

“I hadn’t spoken to them at that point in nearly two months. They’d avoided me, hadn’t sought me out at all during that time. I had come to the startling realization that morning as I was sitting in my Family Library that there had been a loophole in the contract. It didn’t forbid another _not of our family_ line to harm Hermione or our children. I contacted my House Elf, Mipsy and asked her who—if anyone—my parents had been in contact with. I knew the terms of our probation forbid direct contact with anyone other that immediate family and the Aurors.”

“And what did you discover?”

“Mipsy told me that my parents were spending an inordinate amount of time in my Father’s study and the elves were forbidden from entering. Mipsy did tell me that Lucius had been corresponding with Gringotts through his personal House Elf Tinker. Mipsy then told me that Tinker had also been corresponding with Pansy Parkinson.”

“Did the former Miss Parkinson, now Mrs. Finch-Fletchley ever openly discuss helping you deal with your marriage in any way?”

Draco nodded. “The day of my marriage, she offered to help me remove Hermione from my life. She didn’t exactly give specifics, and I told her to leave it alone.”

“Did you tell your parents of Miss Parkinson’s help?” Avery asked.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Did you see Miss Parkinson speak with your parents at your reception?” Robards asked firmly and Draco thought about it and shook his head.

“At the end of the reception everyone was saying their goodbyes, but my parents were the first to leave so I don’t believe they ever talked with Pansy, at least not that I could tell.”

“What did you do once you realized that your parents were likely violating their probation and why?”

“Objection Minister,” Avery bellowed, “that is supposition, as there is no way Lord Black could’ve known what was in his parents minds at that time.”

“Sustained.”

Robards shrugged but carried on, “What did you do once you had learned of the contact?”

“I had Mipsy contact Auror Potter.”

“And then?”

“I decided to venture downstairs and talk to my parents.”

“And what did you discover?”

“When I entered Lucius study, my Father ignored me and my Mother was sitting stiffly. Both didn’t seem particularly pleased to see me.”

“Did they offer you to join them?”

“No, they did not.” Draco replied coldly. “I wished them a Happy Christmas, and Lucius reminded me it wasn’t Christmas yet. I made a comment about being unsure if I fit into their holiday plans and they didn’t offer any consolation that they’d cared one way or the other. It was then I noticed movement near my Mother and saw Rita Skeeter in her animagus form. It was then I made the connection that something wasn’t right.”

“And how did you know it was Rita Skeeter, Lord Black?” Avery asked condescendingly.

“I had some experience with Rita Skeeter back during my fourth year at Hogwarts, slipping stories to her as an animagus.”

“Did you know she wasn’t registered with the Ministry?”

“No.”

“Was anyone else aware of Miss Skeeter’s status as an animagus back during your time at school?” Robards inquired and Draco gasped and nodded.

“Pansy.” His eyes widened. “She was the one who told me about Rita being an animagus.”

“What happened then?”

“I had Mipsy contact my wife, which she did. Hermione and Auror Potter came and I told them what I’d discovered. It was at this point I made the decision to file the necessary paperwork with Gringotts to dissolve my ancestral claim to the Malfoy line and take up my rightful title as Lord Black. Later that same evening, I confronted my parents, and they admitted their partnership with Pansy, their desire to remove Hermione and my children from the Malfoy Family. It was then that I returned the Malfoy Family ring and denounced my status as the Malfoy Heir.”

“And took up the title of Lord Black?” Avery spat out.

“Yes.”

“Miss Granger made sure that neither one of your parents could disown you, but made it possible for you to disown them, or in part disown the Malfoy name while retaining the Black legacy?”

Draco stared at Avery and replied haughtily, “She allowed me the freedom of _choice_ , which is more than my parents ever afforded me.”

At this point, Draco glared at his mother and father who were staring at him with anger and betrayal written all over their faces, and it made him fume.

How dare they act as if they’d been betrayed!

“I’ve spent my entire life trying to please you both. To live by your set of rules. I sacrificed parts of myself, allowed myself to be placed under so many crucios, _I lost count._ All I ever wanted to be was a good son to you both, but no matter how much I sacrificed, it was _never_ enough.” He then removed his arm from his outer robes and pulled up his shirt sleeve and exposed the Dark Mark on his left forearm, causing many within the Wizengamot to shout. “ _This_ is what I took upon myself at _sixteen_ to save you both from Voldemort! And yet, it wasn’t _enough_! _It’s never been enough for either one of you!_ ” He shook his head in anger as he glared out over the Wizengamot with ire. “You all should be _very ashamed of yourselves!_ Many of you sat back and did **nothing** when the Dark Lord rose to power, but now you sit in judgment of children who had to live on the front lines of a War that you brought upon us all with your _**cowardice, prejudices and inaction.**_ Then you foist a Marriage Law on those of us who suffered and fought as _child soldiers,_ so you could make it seem as if suddenly, there isn’t prejudice anymore!” Draco then stared morosely at his parents and sighed. “But as long as there are ignorant people like Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy...prejudice will never die. I should’ve let you both _rot_ for your own mistakes, instead of trying to save you from them.”

The entire Wizengamot and the rest of the congregation were completely stunned silent. When Draco looked over at his wife, tears were streaming down her cheeks and he smiled ruefully at her.

“Are we _done_ here?”

He glared at both Robards and Avery, daring either one of them to ask him another pointless question and Kingsley cleared his throat and gave him a proud nod.

“I think we are, Lord Black. Thank you for your help today.”

Draco stood immediately and walked over to his wife, not giving either one of his parents the satisfaction of looking their way. He took Hermione’s hand and led her out of the court chamber, not caring what would be speculated upon nor written about his words.

They could all go hang, as far as he was concerned.


	20. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco takes a moment to appreciate his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all those who’ve taken the time to read, review and leave some love. I hope you’re all doing well, staying safe and healthy during these tumultuous times. My thoughts and prayers are with you all! ❤️❤️

Hermione had finally finished her Apprenticeship with Septima, and now had her Master’s in Arithmancy. It had been an arduous journey and at times Draco had wondered if she was ever going to be finished with it. Thankfully she’d had the help of their family and friends, who had supported her through it all and tonight they were having a small get together in celebration.

The past year had been tumultuous at times, but everything had seemed to calm down after a while. The fall-out from his parent’s trial had found Lucius back in Azkaban for a two year sentence (attached to an additional ten years house arrest) and his Mum on confined house arrest for an additional five years beyond the initial sentence. Pansy had been sentenced to Azkaban for five years for the attempted murder of her spouse and willful violation of the Marriage Law. Her inheritance had been given over to Justin completely, and their marriage dissolved.

In fact, the Wizengamot had decided to review the Marriage Law after Draco’s outburst in the courtroom that day. The Prophet, Quibbler and Witch Weekly had all reported on Draco’s testimony, and the sympathy garnered for the new Lord Black and his War Heroine wife had been unexpected. Draco’s probation had been commuted thanks to the information he’d given to Kingsley about the bribes and blackmail that Lucius had on a third of the Wizengamot. Over the past year, many of those who had been serving on the esteemed branch of government had seen their prestige fall as their perfidy and corruption had been exposed.

Of course, none of this had been traced back to Draco directly. Somehow, during an Auror raid on Malfoy Manor...secret ledgers with a detailed accounting of all of Lucius payouts and blackmail had been found by Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley.

The uproar generated when the news broke, had left the Wizarding World reeling for several months as Kingsley cleaned house and appointed new members to the Wizengamot that were a even mixture of Purebloods, Half-Bloods and Muggleborns.

Some of the old Pureblood Houses decried the changing of the old guard, and there had even been rumblings and whispers of another uprising of Death Eater Sympathizers—but in a move no one saw coming, Theodore Nott had gone to Draco with a list of names of Pureblood families that had approached him, and Draco had taken that information directly to the Minister.

It was a sad day for Draco when he got the Prophet article outing several of his old Slytherin housemates being taken into custody on sedition.

Marcus Flint, Cassius Warrington, Gregory Goyle, Millicent Bulstrode...

...even Blaise had been caught up in their plans.

Their families had their wealth stripped, their lands and titles taken from them and all had been given the choice to have their magic bound for a period of three years and be remained to the Muggle World, or serve their sentences in Azkaban.

Everyone except Blaise, had chosen Azkaban.

Kingsley had made it known he wouldn’t tolerate willful violations of the law, nor would he allow another uprising to damage the fragile peace that had settled since Voldemort was slain.

For Draco, he was just glad to have his family safe and sound.

At that moment, his twins were crawling on the carpet, following after Mipsy who was playing with them in their spacious room.

Hermione had wanted to stay in her family’s country home with the children and Draco had agreed wholeheartedly. He loved it here, and once the wards were placed, he could fly over the grounds and enjoy the countryside with a good notice me not charm in place.

“Dada!”

Draco gazed down and smiled at his little angel who was pulling herself up to a standing position using his knees as leverage. Cassiopeia was almost walking while her brother Castor, was sitting up and smiling widely at him.

Lifting his daughter up, Draco cuddled her and kissed her cheek in greeting.

“Hello, Princess.”

“Dada!”

“Yes, sweetie, do you want Dada to come and play?”

Cassie just grinned much like her brother and Draco took that as a ‘ _yes_ ’—so he sat down on the carpet with his children and helped them stack the blocks that were scattered on the floor.

That was how Hermine found them twenty minutes later, when she came in the room looking for him.

“I knew I’d find you in here.”

Draco glanced up, and quirked an eyebrow at his little wife’s black dress that was showing off just the right amount of skin to get his attention.

“Minx,” he smirked, “you wore that on purpose.”

“Maybe.” Her answering smile was wicked as she moved inside the room to the twin squeals of their children mumbling ‘Mama’...

“You need to get dressed, love. Everyone will be here shortly.”

Draco sighed. “You know how I hate company.”

“Liar,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “you hate sharing me with company. It’s not the same.”

Draco stood and gripped her arm, pulling her into his embrace as she squealed in shock.

“It so is,” he planted a kiss on her lips and allowed it to deepen for a moment before pulling back unhappily. “Why did I agree to this again? I thought we could celebrate in private?”

Hermione turned into his embrace fully, raising her hands over his shoulders and softly playing with the fine hairs at the base of his neck, pleased when he closed his eyes in pleasure at her simple touch.

“Well,” she purred, “Mum and Dad are taking the twins with them for the weekend. _So_..”

Draco didn’t wait for her to finish as he covered her mouth with his in a bruising kiss, a promise for later and groaned in anticipation.

As he pulled back, he growled lowly, “A _whole_ weekend?”

“Yep,” Her smile was positively sinful, “and wouldn’t you _know_? I stopped by that store you love and picked up a few things for our alone time together.”

Draco growled, grabbing her arse through her dress and giving it a punishing squeeze.

“ _Wicked witch!_ You expect me to play host all night knowing that?”

“Yep.”

Hermione winked as she disentangled herself and sashayed out of their children’s room, putting an extra sway to her hips that had Draco licking his lips in anticipation of the weekend to come.

“I’m going to make you pay for that, witch!”

His voice bellowed after her, but all he heard was her laughter as she replied back saucily...

“I can take on, whatever you can _dish_ out— _husband_.”

Draco grinned and chuckled deeply, shaking his head in amusement as he listened to their children babble happily. He picked them up one at a time and kissed them affectionately, and not for the first time—he felt his heart lighten at the joy these two little ones brought to his life.

He shivered for a second when he thought of what might’ve happened had he not had the courage to protect them, as he’d never been protected by his own parents.

What their fate might’ve been had he made a different choice.

But the truth was, there had really been only one choice he could’ve made, and he didn’t regret it for a second. He loved his family—and even the strange extended family he’d inherited when he’d married Hermione, wasn’t entirely awful—even if he liked to tease Hermione over that fact. He was just immensely grateful to be given a chance to be a good husband, father and friend.

For all his faults and mistakes, he’d come out of his past a better...wiser person.

Maybe love—truly was the greatest Magic of all...

**Author's Note:**

> A modified expansion of a couple of my one-shots. This story won’t be a terribly long one...just a fun idea I had as I’m working through a bit of chapter development on Phoenix...leave a kudo or a comment! I always love to hear from you all!


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